Grieving in Pink
by Kharina1990
Summary: In just a few days, Nymphadora Lupin loses a husband and regains a father, while her mother Andromeda is forced to re-evaluate her relationship with her sister. What will the post-war period hold for the Tonks family? Will they move forward or hold on to the past? An AU fic because I simply love the Tonks family and wanted a few more of them to survive. T for language.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** If I was JK Rowling I would never have had the heart to kill off Tonks… so any characters and situations you recognise don't belong to me.

 **Author's Note:** This fic is really just a bit of wish fulfilment, because Nymphadora (sorry, Tonks!) and Ted Tonks are some of my favourite characters, so I wrote an AU where they manage to survive to explore how they might and what might happen after that. Sharing it just in case anyone else would also enjoy seeing more Tonks after the war. Hope you enjoy, and feel free to review!

* * *

" _Remus!_ " Nymphadora Lupin screamed, charging towards the spot where she'd seen her husband fall, ducking a jet of red light from Rowle, who she'd been duelling. She fell to her knees beside him, heedless of all else around her, and desperately felt for a heart beat, a pulse. Nothing.

"Remus, wake up! _Enervate!"_ She pointed her wand at him, but the spell did nothing. "Remus," she repeated, beginning to sob as she lifted his body to hold him, burying her head in his warm shoulder. "Please. Wake up," she whispered, her voice half-stifled by tears, knowing it was useless. She could feel the slight roughness of his cheek against hers, and she breathed in his scent, savouring it, trying to deny what she knew was true. "Wake up, please. I love you. Please." A part of her knew it was unwise in the midst of a battle, but all she could do was hold him, try to savour these few moments while he was still warm, still so close to life, hope desperately that she'd been wrong. She lifted her wand again, hopelessly. " _Enervate,"_ she whispered again.

"Aww, is the little baby missing her filthy werewolf?" Came a high-pitched, horribly nasal sing-song voice.

Nymphadora's heart sank. She knew that voice. She hadn't the energy to fight her again, but she wouldn't give Bellatrix the satisfaction of killing her from behind, without at least trying to stand up to her. Reluctantly, she lowered Remus' body to the ground, and began to turn to face her aunt. As she did so, her wand flew out of her hand.

Bellatrix was smiling insanely as she caught Nymphadora's wand in her free hand. "You filthy half-blood brat," she spat. "Do you have any idea what you have done by lowering yourself to breed with that filth? You're even worse than your mother, you little slut."

"Don't insult my mother," Nymphadora told her firmly.

"Or what?" Bellatrix said tauntingly. " _Crucio!"_

The pain was indescribable. Nymphadora fell instantly to the ground, but the pain was such that she didn't even feel her body hit the hard stone flags. She screamed, unable to help it, but knowing no-one would come to her rescue. Everyone was too busy fighting. Who would be able to spare the time? She wasn't sure if she minded so much. At least she would join Remus... but Teddy... oh, god, Teddy...

Belatedly, Nymphadora realised Bellatrix had lifted the curse. "Aww, did that hurt?" she mocked.

"What do you think?" Nymphadora snapped back, wracking her brains for a good retort. "Why so angry, _Auntie?_ Did I get you into trouble with your precious _Voldemort?_ And you think _I_ have bad taste in men?" It felt good to finally be able to say the name again, after all these months of hiding.

She saw with some satisfaction that her shot had hit home. "You dare speak his name, you filthy stain on my family tree? _Crucio!"_

Nymphadora knew she would welcome it when Bellatrix killed her. She was thankful, at least, that it was the middle of a battle and her aunt must have limited time to spend on her favourite Unforgivable Curse. Dimly, Nymphadora heard Bellatrix's cackling voice over the sound of her own screams.

"Don't worry, little baby, you'll join that _animal_ you call a husband and your filthy Mudblood father so-"

Suddenly, the pain was gone, but all Nymphadora could do was lie there and breathe. Breathe. Through the after-effect of the curse, she could hear a voice, and a hand shaking her.

"Nymphadora! Nymphadora, talk to me!"

Nymphadora opened her eyes. Only one person ever called her that name. "Mum?"

Gradually, Andromeda's worried face came into focus. "Quickly, love, get up, as soon as you can," she said urgently. "We can't stay here, we have to hide."

"I can't hide," Nymphadora said, wincing at the pain it cost her to move her lips. "I came to fight."

Andromeda arched one eyebrow.

"You look like Mrs Malfoy when you do that," Nymphadora muttered rebelliously.

"You are in no condition to fight right now," Andromeda said with an air of finality, ignoring her comment. "All you would do is get yourself killed. You are coming with me, now."

Nymphadora struggled to her feet. There was no arguing with that tone of voice. Her eyes came to rest on Remus, and fresh tears came to them as his body floated into the air, guided by her mother's

Levitation spell, and her wand was pushed back into her hand.

"I'm so sorry, Nymphadora. He was a good man."

Nymphadora tore her eyes away, unable to bear looking at him anymore, and her eyes fell on Bellatrix, crumpled up against the nearest wall.

"Is she dead?" she asked, half-dreading the answer.

"Stunned, I've never cast Avada Kedavra before and I didn't want to try and use anything that might go wrong. I can't outduel her, but I could take her by surprise. Now hurry, we must hide."

Dumbly, Nymphadora followed her mother along the corridor, her mother turning away suddenly to slip behind a tapestry, into what appeared to be a secret short-cut. The narrow hallway was dusty and covered in spiders' webs. "Where's Teddy?" Nymphadora asked suddenly. "You were supposed to look after him."

"I left him with your grandmother," Andromeda whispered.

"But she's a Muggle!" Nymphadora said. "She can't protect him."

"He's not in the middle of a war, he doesn't need protecting, not yet, anyway. And if He Who Must Not Be Named wins this war, I wouldn't be able to protect him either. Besides, no-one in the wizarding world knows where she lives and there are protective charms all round the place, your Dad made sure of that."

Andromeda's voice caught on her husband's name, and Nymphadora felt guilty that the first thing that that reminded her of was her own grief for Remus.

"You needed me more. I can't lose you, Nymphadora. Not you too." Andromeda stopped, allowing Remus' body to float gently down to the ground once more. "Come this side of me," she said gently, indicating the space next to the wall.

Nymphadora obeyed, watching her mother stand in front of her and begin to cast the protective enchantments that would make them invisible and very difficult to hear. "You could start calling him Vol-"

"Be quiet! How do you know the Taboo isn't still in place?"

"He's kind of busy, whether it's still there or not,"

"Just don't say the name."

"Fine. You could at least call him all the names Auntie Liz and Elsa invented for him. Like Noseless Git," Nymphadora said, but without her usual bubbly humour. She could feel herself starting to sob again.

Her mother dropped to her knees and hugged her tightly.

"It feels like-" Nymphadora choked.

"Like the world should be ending, exploding right in front of your eyes. Like half your body is missing," Andromeda finished for her. "I know."

Nymphadora reached for Remus' body, pulling his head to rest in her lap, stroking his thinning hair away from his forehead. "I love you, Mum," she said softly.

Andromeda kissed the top of her daughters' head. "I love you, too."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Just wanted to thank the guest reviewers Clare, Laurence and Guest for their reviews as I can't reply to guest reviews using the review reply system. Also Guest, I'm afraid Bellatrix doesn't survive in this (nor do I think Andromeda could forgive her for trying to kill Dora) but Andromeda and Narcissa will start to have some contact, starting in this chapter, so I hope you enjoy that!

* * *

Andromeda wasn't sure how long she sat there, holding her daughter tightly to her, listening to the sounds of the battle, Voldemort's message calling for the Boy Who Lived to give himself up, then the comparative quiet of people scurrying through the castle, gathering up the dead, followed by the sounds of intense battle again. Eventually, though, she heard loud cheering, and stirred.

"Stay here, Nymphadora, don't make a sound, and don't do anything stupid."

"I should have fought," Nymphadora said suddenly in response, raising her gaze from Remus for the first time in hours. "I should never have let you make me sit here like a coward. What if the Death Eaters have won?"

Andromeda shook her head. "I don't think so. It doesn't sound like their sort of cheering. No arguments, Nymphadora. Your baby needs you, and in case I am wrong you need to stay alive to protect him and your grandmother, who no doubt would die in an attempt to protect him should they find her."

Luckily, Nymphadora didn't protest. Andromeda walked back down the corridor, trying not to let her memories completely derail her. She and Ted had hidden here, during their Hogwarts days, for whispered conversations and heated kisses. Reaching the end of the corridor, she cautiously drew the tapestry back, and crept out, sticking close to the wall, hoping that the Disillusionment Charm she had cast on herself would shield her, for a while.

Eventually, she came to the top of the staircase, overlooking the Great Hall, to see a crush of students, staff, order members, all seemingly engaged in one massive hug. Definitely not a Death Eater celebration, then, but Andromeda still checked carefully to see that none of them were left alive and free, and saw three blond heads peeping out from behind a pillar on the opposite staircase. Bloody hell, if a meteorite hit the Earth tomorrow and killed everyone on it, the Malfoys would somehow survive and stay scot free. How the hell did they do it? Was it genetic?

Andromeda returned her attention to the scene below her, to notice the pile of people beginning to break up, and three teenagers stagger out of the centre, one of whom she recognised as Harry Potter. She shifted her gaze across the floor to see the body of Voldemort, lying, ironically, in a pool of dawn sunlight. They had won, she realised. They had won, and she had kept her daughter safe.

There was relief, but no euphoria, not like that of the milling crowd below. They had won, but too late for Remus. Too late for her darling Ted. The dam she had built up inside herself, made of the desperate desire to keep the rest of her family safe, broke and the grief came flooding through, disrupting her magic and her muscles, so that the Disillusionment Charm faded and she sank down onto the step, in floods of tears.

"Miss- Mrs Tonks?"

Andromeda turned towards the genial voice, to recognise her old Head of House. "Professor Slughorn," she murmured weakly. "It's been a long time."

He pressed a handkerchief into her hand. Finest silk, of course, with the initials H.S monogrammed onto the corner. "Is it your daughter?"

She shook her head. "She's fine. Only just, though. I hid her. But her husband is dead. And so is mine." Her speech was disjointed, broken by sobs.

"Yes, I was very sorry to hear that," Slughorn said. "He was a very talented Potion-maker, I have to say. I heard he set up his own business as a potioneer?"

"You never visited his shop, though," Andromeda said bitterly. "Would have created too much tension with your rich pureblood friends?" Andromeda pressed the handkerchief to the corners of her eyes, finally managing to stem the flow of her tears. For now.

"Come now, Andromeda," Slughorn said. "I'm a Potions master myself. Anything I need, I make."

"It was an apothecary as well," Andromeda snarled, her misery turning to bitter anger. She knew Slughorn didn't deserve the brunt of her anger, not really, but he was the closest target she had right now. "Or are you so brilliant you don't even need ingredients?"

Slughorn gave no response to that, silently reaching for her shoulder. "What can I do to help, my dear?" he asked.

"Nothing. Not unless you can raise the dead," Andromeda answered bitterly. "I'm just thankful that I came when I did, or-" her voice broke, and her remaining words were a murmur. "I'd have lost- Nymphadora-"

Slughorn patted her shoulder awkwardly. It was rare to see the genial Professor so lost for words. The silence was uncomfortable, but he clearly didn't feel able to leave her. Andromeda would have preferred to have been left to herself, to cry freely, but the presence of another made her force back her tears. However, even though her eyes were dry she avoided eye contact with Slughorn, looking across the Entrance Hall determinedly, and so it was Slughorn who first saw the figure approaching down the staircase behind them.

"Mrs Malfoy!" he exclaimed, respectful yet wary.

Andromeda whipped her head around, catching Slughorn's anxious glance between the pair of them before focusing all her attention on her sister. "What do you think you are doing, Narcissa?" Andromeda spat venomously.

Her sister looked awful… well, comparatively awful. Narcissa had always been the pretty one, and there were still traces of her looks there, but there were shadows under her eyes, her hair was in disarray and she was without makeup, an unprecedented sight in public since Narcissa had been about thirteen. Glancing beyond her, Andromeda saw Lucius and Draco, standing watchfully behind her a little distance away. Lucius' fingers clutched at his side, as though holding a non-existent wand. Both of them looked similarly dishevelled.

"Andy-"

"Don't you dare call me that."

Narcissa's posture straightened at that, and her expression, which had been more open than usual, resumed its usual icy quality. "Mrs Tonks."

She curtsied, a gesture Andromeda did not deign to return.

"Your daughter, Nymphadora. Is she well?"

Andromeda debated with herself for a moment over whether to even answer. "If by 'well' you mean alive and relatively uninjured, then yes. If you are talking about her mental state, her husband was just murdered, so very far from well."

Narcissa nodded stiffly and made no further comment on Nymphadora. However, she did not appear to be finished with the conversation, a fact that irritated Andromeda.

"If there's nothing else, Narcissa, you can leave."

Narcissa shook her head. "No, there is something else, Mrs Tonks. Your husband-"

"He's 'my husband' now you've lost, is he? That's not what you normally call him."

Narcissa ignored her. "Your husband was announced to be dead."

"If that's your way of apologising that your filthy Death Eater friends murdered him, Narcissa, I will hex you into oblivion."

"He might not be."

"Murdered? Are you about to try and convince me he died by accident? Because it was still the fault of your husband and his friends that he was on the run in the first place."

"He might not be dead. You need to look for him," Narcissa said simply. "Good morning," she added with another curtsey, the formal pureblood manner of closing a conversation.

Andromeda was stunned for a moment, unable to respond. "What?" She croaked eventually.

Narcissa half-turned on her way back to her husband and son. "He might not be dead," she repeated.

Andromeda stared at Narcissa's retreating back, stunned. When she'd first heard the news she'd convinced herself that Potterwatch must be wrong, that they couldn't possibly have accurate information. Her sister-in-law, a psychologist, had talked about stages of grief once, years ago, at some family gathering, and Andromeda could remember her saying that often the first reaction was denial. She'd squashed the hope eventually, realising it was just a wild wish, but now she felt it start to glimmer again inside her, like the last glowing ember of a fire. Collecting herself, Andromeda managed to call: "Narcissa!" just as her sister reached Lucius and Draco again.

Andromeda took a few hurried steps to catch up. "You'd better not be messing around, Narcissa."

Her sister shook her head. "No. Nothing is certain. All I know is that the death report was based on false information."

"What about the other deaths, Mrs Malfoy?" Slughorn had also reached them.

"I have no reason to believe those to be inaccurate. I just know Mr Tonks' was. It doesn't make it certain he survived." Narcissa looked at Andromeda. "But I do believe it to be quite likely."

Andromeda's heart rate seemed to double in a single second. She tried to stay calm, unwilling to show too much emotion in front of her sister, but her voice cracked as she asked: "Why? How do you know?"

Narcissa shook her head again. "That's all you need to know, Andromeda."

Andromeda stared at her for a few seconds. Her sister really was insufferable. However, as Narcissa began again to turn away, Andromeda drew her wand.

"You will tell me, even if I have to Cruciate it out of you, do you understand?" Andromeda managed to choke out, raising her wand.

"Threaten my wife again, Andromeda, and I will make you pay." Lucius spoke for the first time, moving to position himself between the two sisters, but Narcissa laid a hand on her husband's arm. They glanced at each other, and he moved aside.

"You wouldn't really do that, Andy," Narcissa said softly. "Your own sister?"

Andromeda gave a bitter smile. "You really think you can claim to be my sister any more, Narcissa? I note it's only when it suits you. I have just lost my son-in-law, I nearly lost my daughter and I thought for _months_ that I had lost my husband, and I may still have lost him. I want to know what happened, and you will tell me."

"Mrs Tonks-" Slughorn began, reaching out a hand for her arm.

"Don't touch me," Andromeda responded, without taking her eyes off Narcissa, who was looking steadily back at her.

When it seemed that the tension in their gazes would reach breaking point, Narcissa sighed and looked away. "Very well. A group of Snatchers came across your husband with Dean Thomas, Dirk Cresswell and two goblins. From what I understand, the two adults and one of the goblins fought them to give the boy time to run away with the other goblin. Mr Cresswell and the goblin were killed straight away, but they captured Mr Tonks, because-"

Narcissa cut herself off, but Andromeda could guess the reason, and it was a single word: Bellatrix. Ted's death was one her sister would have wanted to handle personally.

"Mr Tonks escaped them before they could bring him…" Narcissa hesitated again and steeled herself. "Bring him to the manor. The group had been known to be travelling together, and they had to report the deaths of Dirk and the goblin. The Snatchers were a little bit nervous about telling Bellatrix he had escaped. They asked me to tell her. I pointed out that that would only delay her wrath and thereby make it worse, and suggested an alternative course: that they reported his death to her along with the others, and tried to make good their mistake as soon as they could. I asked them to report to me once they had done so. They never did."

"Narcissa!" Lucius exclaimed in shock. Clearly, he hadn't known. "You- if He had found out that you-"

"He didn't," Narcissa said simply, taking her husband's hand.

Andromeda had listened in stunned silence to this exchange, but found her voice again. "You told them to try and kill my husband."

"Andromeda, think," Narcissa said impatiently. "If they had told Bellatrix he'd escaped I'm certain she would have tried to find him herself. I judged that he would not only have a better death if the Snatchers killed him than whatever Bella had in store, he probably had a much better chance of evading them than he did Bellatrix. He'd escaped them once, after all. And, as they never reported his death to me, it's very possible he was successful in doing so for the rest of the war. As I said before, all you really need to concern yourself with is that he may well be alive and you need to look for him." With that, Narcissa turned on her heel and walked determinedly away, her husband and son following in her wake.

Andromeda sank down onto a step again, trying to process what she had just heard, moderate and limit her hope, and decide whether she should tell Nymphadora. She judged not: it was too cruel to raise hopes in her daughter that might only be dashed again, especially when she was already grieving so heavily.

"I'll speak to someone," Slughorn said. "I'll see if they can put announcements out on Potterwatch and in the Daily Prophet that the war is over, and to encourage those on the run to arrive here. I know one already went out at the start of the battle: it's possible your husband already heard it, but if not he will hopefully hear one of these. Do you have any idea where he might have gone?"

Andromeda shook her head slowly. "He said he was going to keep moving, that's all he told me."

Slughorn squeezed her shoulder. "I'll go and do it now."

Andromeda nodded, standing herself. "I must see my daughter."


	3. Chapter 3

Nymphadora stayed huddled against the wall where her mother had left her, cradling her husband's body in her arms. Time seemed to have lost all meaning, and she was unaware of the cold of the wall against her back and the hot tears spilling down her cheeks. In this state, it was perhaps unsurprising that she failed to hear her mother's soft footsteps and so was unaware of her approach until Andromeda was right beside her.

"Nymphadora, darling, it's over. We've won."

Nymphadora nodded distractedly as Andromeda slipped an arm around her shoulders. They sat in silence for a long time, looking down at Remus' face. They said the dead always looked peaceful, but Nymphadora didn't see that. If anything, he looked more worn and anxious than he had in life, with the determined, kind personality that had always shone through the hardship missing. Their marriage had been a tiny affair, only her parents and a couple of members of the Order present as witnesses and guards. This wasn't because of a lack of guests who'd be willing to come: all Dora's Muggle family would have loved to attend the wedding, but it just wasn't safe. Her aunt Lizzie was the only member of her family who'd even met Remus, and that was by accident and before they were dating. Nymphadora had always hoped they'd meet him after the war, have a dinner as a sort of replacement for the wedding reception she'd never had. And now…

Andromeda was squeezing her shoulder. "We should move. We… we can't keep Remus' body here."

Nymphadora nodded and allowed herself to be guided to her feet. "You're right." She raised her wand to levitate Remus' body again and followed her mother slowly down the narrow corridor and out onto the main one. Pieces of the banister above the staircase to the Entrance Hall were lying, smashed, in their way, and the already complicated business of avoiding the trick steps down the great staircase was made yet more difficult by the fact that many other steps were broken or missing, too. At one point Nymphadora and Andromeda had to jump a gap three steps wide. However, they eventually reached the Entrance Hall and turned towards the Great Hall. The heavy door, which was standing open, was leaning slightly, its upper hinge damaged, and glass crunched beneath Nymphadora's feet as she walked through the Entrance Hall. Eventually, she reached the end of the line of dead that had been placed there, and allowed Remus' body to drift slowly to the ground. She sank to her knees beside him and buried her head against his now cold and lifeless neck. She felt her mother sit down gracefully beside her and put a hand on her back, rubbing it slowly in circles.

Nymphadora could hear that she was by far not the only person sobbing. The room was full of others, mourning their dead too, but right now she could not bring herself to care about anyone else, not even her own mother, although she knew Remus' death and her own grief must be pouring fresh salt in the wound of her father's death. It was for her, too. Her mother was wonderful and Nymphadora wouldn't swap her for the world, but she'd always felt closer to her father, he had an approachability her mother lacked. Although right now, she was a little glad of her mother's calm silence, which gave her the space to deal with her grief herself. Her father would have tried to fill the silence with comforting words, words about how great and brave a man Remus was, and Dora wasn't ready to hear her husband referred to in the past tense.

Nymphadora wasn't sure how long she stayed there. Long enough for the sun to reach its midday height and then lengthen the shadows again. Clearly long enough for Harry Potter to get away from his crowds of admirers, rest, and then wake up again, as eventually Nymphadora heard his voice calling her name.

"Tonks?"

She turned wearily to see the Boy Who Lived a few metres away from her.

"Wotcher, Harry," she said tiredly, her voice tight. "Guess I should say congratulations."

"Tonks, I'm so sorry," Harry said.

Nymphadora could see tears in the boy's eyes.

"About Remus… I'm so sorry."

Nymphadora shook her head. "Wasn't your fault, Harry. You've stopped a hell of a lot more people dying." She struggled to make her tone sound less flat and uncaring for the next question. "Who else did we lose?"

Harry swallowed, hard. "Fred Weasley."

Nymphadora hadn't realised it was possible to feel any more miserable than she already did. "No!" she exclaimed. Fred had been a great person: she'd always appreciated his and George's ability to make anything funny, even when Voldemort had been taking over half the wizarding world. "How's George? And the rest of the family?"

"Pretty bad. That's where Ron and Hermione are, or they'd be here, too." Harry began to list the rest of the names of the dead. Nymphadora tried to feel for each of them, but unless they were personally known to her it was difficult. She had few reserves of grief left. Funny, you wouldn't think that grief was a finite quantity, but it clearly was.

"Er, and…" he hesitated, glancing anxiously across at her mother. "Mrs Tonks, I'm afraid your sister was- she didn't-"

Andromeda gave a bitter laugh. "If I were you, Mr Potter, I would be more 'afraid' if she had survived."

"Which sister?" Nymphadora asked, even though she could guess the answer. She hadn't really asked her mother much about her family, but even she knew Andromeda would never speak that callously about Mrs Malfoy.

"Bellatrix," Andromeda answered, before Harry could speak. "I've seen Narcissa, she's alive."

Harry swallowed. "About that, Mrs Tonks, er, Professor Slughorn came to see me."

Well, that made no sense. Nymphadora forced herself to focus on the two of them, part of her glad of the distraction. "What?"

"I spoke to Kingsley just now. He's going to put out an announcement. For your husband."

Nymphadora swallowed hard at the mention of her father. "You mean for a funeral or something?"

Andromeda began to speak, but too late, as Harry said: "No, to see if he's still alive."

"The hell?" Nymphadora exclaimed disjointedly. "He can't be. Potterwatch got their information direct from the Ministry, Remus-" she paused to force back her tears "Remus told me. It came from the official lists, the ones they had to use to register deaths."

"He probably is still…. Still dead, Nymphadora," Andromeda said softly, her voice raspy with unshed tears. "But I was informed there was a possibility that the death report was wrong. I didn't want to get your hopes up, darling, but I have to try."

Nymphadora wasn't certain what she felt. Hope was there, certainly, but so was the fear that it would all come to nothing. And even, unforgivably in her opinion, jealousy. After all, there was no chance that Remus' death was a mistake, that Remus would be coming back to her. Nymphadora decided to focus on puzzlement. She could at least resolve _that_ emotion.

"How could the death report be wrong?" she asked, directing her question at Harry.

However, it was Andromeda who answered. "Because Mrs Malfoy has been on more sides of this war than she owns pairs of shoes. And she has a lot of shoes."

"Yeah, Mum, you're doing that thing again. The thing where it isn't actually an answer, it just sounds like one."

Andromeda sighed. "It really isn't my information to divulge, Nymphadora."

"You've started now though, you may as well finish," Dora pointed out.

"No, darling," Andromeda said, softly but firmly. "That's all you need to know."

Dora gave up, knowing she would get nothing else out of her mother. She slowly got to her feet, looking reluctantly at Remus' body as she did so. Part of her wanted nothing more than to lie on the floor sobbing for the rest of the day… maybe even the rest of her life, but something to do would probably help, and finding her father was definitely something she needed to do.

"I'm going to go and look for him, Mum."

"You can't possibly do that. Even I've no idea where he is."

"I can try though. It would give me something to do."

"I don't think you're in any condition to be traipsing through countryside. And what if Potterwatch was right all along, and you find…" Andromeda broke off, her voice tight.

Dora reached to place a hand on her mother's shoulder, swallowing hard herself. The thought of finding her father's body after what had happened to Remus today… Dora had to admit her mother was right, it would be too much. She glanced across at Harry, who had half-lifted his hand as if to comfort her mother, then seemingly lost his nerve. Probably Andromeda's resemblance to her sister was at work again there, although Andromeda herself gave off an aloof air that tended to discourage people from getting too informal around her.

"If your father is alive, Nymphadora, he will find us."


	4. Chapter 4

Andromeda's back ached from sitting on the floor, a sign of age that she had no energy to care about now. Nymphadora seemed to have emptied her tear ducts, and was sitting staring at Remus' face with a blank expression, her fingers still tightly curled around his. Andromeda gave her daughter's shoulders another squeeze, forcing back her own tears.

"You should try to eat something soon, N- Dora," she said softly, deciding for once not to antagonize her daughter by using her given name.

"You must really be feeling sorry for me, Mum," Nymphadora responded, but slowly after a long pause, as though every word cost a thousand Galleons. "You've never called me Dora before."

"Come on, you must eat. We've been here nearly an entire day."

"I can't," Nymphadora muttered. "Although I need the bathroom."

Andromeda ran a hand across her daughter's hair, currently its natural mousy-brown. It would be that colour for a very long time: Andromeda couldn't see Nymphadora regaining her metamorphosing abilities any time soon.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

Nymphadora shook her head. "No, stay here. I don't want Remus to be on his own." She sighed. "That's really silly, isn't it?"

Andromeda shook her head slowly. "No it isn't." She didn't let the rest of her thoughts pass her lips: that she'd had nightmares, night after night, about Ted's body lying broken, mutilated and alone. They'd had a small funeral for him, but it had felt strange without his body, failing to give the closure and comfort it was supposed to. She'd have to speak to Nymphadora soon about funeral arrangements, she supposed. Remus had very few possessions, which would make things easier in a way, although the distraction of having to sort out a large estate could sometimes help with grief, she'd heard.

Andromeda heard footsteps behind her, and slowly turned her head, wondering idly who it might be. It was too soon to be Nymphadora returning. Her eyes fell on two of the three heroes of the hour: Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, who she recognised from the Prophet's 'Wanted' advertisements over the last year.

"Mr Weasley, Miss Granger," she said tiredly, with a nod of her head. "I was so sorry to hear of the loss of your brother, Mr Weasley."

Ronald looked away from her, swallowing hard. Miss Granger answered instead.

"Thanks, Mrs Tonks. We were all really sorry to lose Professor Lupin, too. And Mr Tonks, as well."

"If he is actually dead," Ronald muttered.

"Ron!" Hermione Granger exclaimed. "I'm so sorry, Mrs Tonks… Harry told us that maybe…"

Andromeda nodded. "I understand. Who else has Mr Potter told?"

"Just us, and a few people who need to know, like Kingsley and some Aurors, so they can go and look for him."

Andromeda nodded. "I'd appreciate it if he doesn't spread it any further than that, if at all possible. I'd rather half the wizarding world weren't asking about it."

Miss Granger nodded. "I'll tell him." She looked past Andromeda then, towards Remus' body. "Would you mind awfully if we paid our respects, Mrs Tonks?" she asked. "Professor Lupin was one of my favourite teachers."

Andromeda nodded. "Of course. I can't imagine Nymphadora will mind, either."

The two of them hesitantly approached Remus' body and sat beside him.

"He told me a lot about the two of you," Andromeda said, recalling a conversation she'd had over dinner, shortly after Remus and Nymphadora had married. "He told me you were the cleverest student he'd taught, Miss Granger, and Mr Weasley, that you were one of the bravest people he knew."

Ronald finally looked up at her, frowning. "Really?"

Hermione gave him an exasperated look. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

"I assure you he _did_ say that, Mr Weasley, and as Remus knew a lot of very brave people, being one himself, I'd be very flattered by that description if I were you. He also complimented your sense of humour."

There was silence for a few moments. "Erm, Mrs Tonks," Hermione began, sounding very nervous. "I- I don't know whether to say this or not, but, um, I- I'm-sorry-for-your-other-loss." The final words were delivered in such a rush that Andromeda struggled to make sense of them.

"Other loss?"

Hermione swallowed and looked away. "Your sister."

Oh. Andromeda sat in stunned silence for a moment, then began to laugh. "Bellatrix? Well, the last time I saw Bella she was torturing my daughter and about to kill her, so _I'm_ not sorry."

"Sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No, don't apologise. It was very kind of you."

Hermione looked closely at her, as though gauging her potential response to what she said next. "There's something else, Mrs Tonks. I, er, I sort of have her wand."

Andromeda looked down as Hermione drew out Bellatrix's long, unadorned walnut wand, the same one she recognised from childhood. "You may as well keep it, Miss Granger, until you get one of your own."

"Actually, they returned mine earlier today. And please, call me Hermione."

"Well, Bella was definitely using a wand yesterday, and it wasn't that one, so she must have had another one made. If you don't want to snap it in half and put it on the fire, though heaven knows that's not a bad idea, I'd suggest you give it to Narcissa. I- I don't even feel I can touch it."

Hermione swallowed, looking a little anxious, but nodded. "I'll do that, then, Mrs Tonks."

"Andromeda. Or Meda, if that's too much of a mouthful for you."

Hermione nodded distractedly, her eyes wandering over to the other side of the hall. Following her gaze, Andromeda noted three blond heads huddled together at the end of the Slytherin table. Hermione stood up, brushing down her robes.

"You doing it now?" Ronald asked, starting to stand himself.

"Yes," Hermione said. "I want to get it over with." She gave Ronald an appraising look. "If you're coming with me, you are going to be polite, aren't you?"

"Only if they are," Ron said, looking mutinous. "If they call you a You-Know-What then I'm going to hex them."

"You do remember that the last time you tried that you were throwing up slugs for the rest of the afternoon?"

Ronald glared at her. "Only because my wand was broken."

"It was lovely to meet you, Andromeda," Hermione said, ignoring Ron. "I'm just sorry it had to be in these circumstances."

Andromeda nodded. "I agree. And, if you have time, I hope we can meet again. I think this slug story is something I have to hear." She paused. "Also, the Malfoys will be disturbingly nice to you, I can promise you that. Of course, it's all for their own gain, but they won't be calling you any names today, they wouldn't dare."

Andromeda let her eyes follow Ronald and Hermione as they crossed the hall and approached the table where the Malfoy family were sitting. She almost smiled when she saw Lucius and Draco's heads turn just slightly towards Narcissa, and noted that Narcissa was the first to stand and greet the two teenagers, quickly followed by her husband and son. No change there, then. The rest of the world might think that Narcissa was a pretty bauble for Lucius' arm, but Andromeda knew that, whatever his faults, Lucius would have followed his wife into hell itself.

Her thoughts were disturbed by Nymphadora returning with rapid, determined strides.

"Mum, I've changed my mind," she said, without preamble or greeting, though her voice became a little more uncertain as she glanced at Remus.

"About?"

"I want to go and look for Dad."

Andromeda was silent for a few moments. She still didn't think it was a good idea, that Dora was still far too emotionally fragile, but she also knew that there was no arguing with her daughter once she'd made up her mind. Andromeda had tried many times in the past, starting when Dora had insisted on going to Muggle primary school at the age of five because her cousin Elsa, who was a year older, had already started there. Andromeda had tried to impress upon her daughter the seriousness of the problem that her as-yet uncontrolled Metamorphosing might present, but to no avail, so Dora had attended, aided by a number of hats and a much larger number of memory charms. By the time she was seven, though, Dora had learnt to control her talent. Andromeda had to admit that school had probably had some role in that, as she'd been forced to try and conceal it.

Andromeda tried anyway. "Nymphadora, I really don't think that's wise."

"I'm doing it, Mum."

Sighing, Andromeda acquiesced. "Fine. I know better than to argue with you in this mood, darling. But we need to talk first: should I- do you want me to take Remus' body home? He can't stay here forever."

After a slight hesitation, Nymphadora nodded. "I want to take him, though. Then I'll go out and look for Dad… I should be back tomorrow."

Andromeda nodded, and walked with her daughter as she levitated her husband's body to take him out of the grounds, where they would be able to Apparate. As they passed the Slytherin table, much to Andromeda's surprise, Narcissa and her family got to their feet in a traditional gesture of respect to the dead. Nymphadora turned to glare at them.

"Shouldn't you lot be arrested by now?" she snapped.

Lucius made a small movement forward and opened his mouth, but stopped at a slight raise of Narcissa's hand.

"Our condolences for your loss, Mrs Lupin," Narcissa said calmly.

"Oh, piss off," Dora snapped, her hair turning suddenly red with anger.

"Nymphadora, language." Andromeda tried to step forwards past her daughter, hoping to keep things calm, but Nymphadora spoke.

"Oh, come on Mum, it's the Malfoys for fu-"

"Nymphadora."

"Fine, it's the Malfoys for heaven's sake."

Andromeda nodded. "Better."

"You can get lost!" Nymphadora had turned back to her aunt. "You don't give a toss that he's dead."

"How dare you speak to my wife like that, you half-bl-"

"Lucius." Narcissa's voice was quiet, but it stopped her husband in his tracks. "Believe me, Nymphadora-"

"Don't call me Nymphadora."

"Mrs Lupin… believe me, I am genuinely sorry for your pain."

"Yeah, right," Nymphadora snorted. "Come on, Mum," she added, turning away from Narcissa and beginning to walk towards the Entrance Hall.

Andromeda, however, lingered a few moments longer, struggling to form words. "If you do genuinely mean that, Narcissa, then I- thank you."

Narcissa lowered her head slightly, her long blonde hair swinging forwards to shield her face. Almost inaudibly, she whispered: "Yes, Andy. I meant it."

* * *

Thanks to those who have been following this story and reviewing so far :) Hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. This will be quite a short chapter but hopefully an enjoyable one as we finally get to see something of Ted!

* * *

A few nights later it rained, seemingly endlessly. The woodland floor turned damp, then positively soggy, with puddles collecting in the footprints made by deer and foxes, and one man. The latter was currently inside a tent, instincts from years of Muggle camping making him try his best to avoid touching the sides lest the rain seep through, but his natural clumsiness meaning he'd already done so three times in the last five minutes as he set out his sleeping bag. Ted Tonks thanked heaven for the existence of Drying Charms, as in addition to the damp sneaking through the patches of canvas he'd bumped into, he was soaking wet from walking around and around his campsite casting protective charms.

" _Adsicco,"_ Ted muttered yet again, pointing his wand at another patch of wet tent as he settled into his sleeping bag and reached for the battered old radio he relied on to pick up Potterwatch, his main link to the outside world. As he began to fiddle with the dials to find the right frequency, he surveyed the patch of canvas critically. 'Dromeda would probably do a better job, he thought to himself, fighting down a fresh wave of pain at the thought of his wife.

When the Snatchers had found him, Ted had been certain he'd never see his wife and daughter again. Even when he managed to escape, Ted was sure a more senior Death Eater would be sent after him. He'd hoped it wouldn't be Bellatrix: not only was her cruelty in torture legendary, more importantly it would have hurt 'Dromeda so badly if she'd ever found out that her own sister was responsible for her husband's death. While Ted hoped someone other than Bellatrix would kill him, he knew it was unlikely: the Snatchers had mentioned orders that he should be brought straight to her. He'd thought it was only a matter of time before he came face-to-face with her, but he was still waiting.

Ted had heard the announcement of his own death on Potterwatch, with mixed feelings. He hoped the Death Eaters also believed he was dead, then they might stop hunting him… but it meant, too, that Andromeda and Dora would be grieving, a thought Ted simply couldn't bear. He'd entertained the idea of going to them, letting them know he was alive, but it was simply too dangerous. He only seemed to miss them more with time: Dora's bright hair and bouncy demeanour; Andromeda's elegant grace and biting wit.

Eventually, the radio crackled into life, and Ted tapped it with his wand, muttering the code that had been given out last week for Potterwatch.

"…this is 'River', better known as Lee Jordan," a by now familiar voice came from the radio, sounding much more cheerful than he had for the last few episodes.

Ted sat up suddenly, startled. Full names? Potterwatch never gave out the full names of its presenters, for obvious reasons.

"For those of you that haven't heard, it's my privilege to announce that Voldemort is dead, and his Death Eaters have been defeated. Harry Potter really was the 'Chosen One', I guess."

"More just lucky, Lee," came a voice that Ted thought he recognised.

"So, for those of you who don't know their voices, we also welcome Harry Potter and Hermione Granger to the show."

"Good evening, everyone," came a girl's quiet voice.

While Harry and Hermione had been talking, Ted had struggled back out of his sleeping bag and to his feet, and was currently staring at the radio in shock. The war was over? Ted almost started to pack up the tent right away to head home, then hesitated. What if this was some Death Eater trap? Well, if they had Harry Potter it was probably all over anyway, he supposed, but who would really know what Harry's voice sounded like? Ted was probably in one of the better positions to do that, having actually met the boy, but he couldn't reliably decide if it was his voice or not, especially over a crackly radio. The Death Eaters could easily impersonate him, particularly with a few spells.

"So, the main point of today's show is to let everyone on the run know it's safe to come home. We know you won't want to just take our word for it, though: after all, I could be You-Know-Who in disguise," Lee Jordan said.

"Exactly," Hermione Granger said. "So Harry and I have been speaking to the families of those on the run, where we can, and each of them has given a few pieces of information that the Death Eaters wouldn't know. We realise this isn't a hundred percent foolproof, but it's the best method we could come up with, and hopefully with a few additional checks most of you on the run will feel it's safe."

Well, that didn't apply to him. Ted knew he'd been announced as dead, and 'Dromeda would have no reason to doubt that. But it did seem genuine… maybe if he went home rather than to Hogwarts or the Ministry, and questioned 'Dromeda and Dora to make sure it was really them. If Hermione, Lee and Harry were really telling the truth, Ted couldn't leave his wife grieving for a minute longer than necessary.

Given these thoughts, it was not entirely surprising that Ted jumped a foot in the air upon hearing his name, nearly bringing the whole tent down on his head.

"Firstly, Ted Tonks. Mr Tonks… we're not even sure if you're alive or not. You might have heard Potterwatch announce your… your death, but we've had information since that that announcement is likely to have been inaccurate."

"Unfortunately, just specifically that bit of information," Lee interrupted. "So any relatives of others whose deaths were announced on the programme… I'm sorry, but at the moment we've no reason to think we were wrong. I wish we were."

"Your wife and daughter both survived the war without injury, and are desperate to know if you're alive," Hermione continued. "They both gave us information they said Death Eaters would be unlikely to know. Mrs Tonks told me that the first dance at your wedding was to 'Something' by The Beatles, and that the first time she tasted Baileys she didn't realise it was alcoholic. Your daughter tells us that you let her draw on the wall aged five when you were redecorating the living room, and that behind the paint to the left of the door to the kitchen there's an illustration of the Hopping Pot from 'The Wizard and the Hopping Pot' eating the two Ugly Sisters from 'Cinderella'." Hermione paused. "We'd like to apologise for the private nature of some of the details we'll be reading out, but we just didn't see another way of doing this that would convince all those on the run that it's safe to return."

Ted hadn't moved, still staring at the radio in shock. So it really was over… it was over! He could go home!

Shaking his head to clear it, Ted began to jam all his things willy-nilly into his backpack, using both magic and his hands to get it done as fast as possible. Running outside once he was done, he waved his wand a little too enthusiastically, making the pegs holding the tent down fly off in all directions into the forest.

"Bugger… _Accio_ pegs," he muttered. This time, they came back so fast that they whacked into Ted's body in fifteen different places before falling on to the floor, but he'd never cared about pain less in his life.

Gathering them up, Ted shoved them and the soaking wet tent into the backpack too, picked up his wand and released the wards surrounding his campsite for the last time. Then, turning on the spot, he disappeared.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** A bit of a longer chapter today, so hope you enjoy! I promise Ted will reappear next chapter :)

* * *

Two days before Ted heard the Potterwatch announcement, Andromeda woke up to a silent house. Nymphadora had not yet returned from searching for her father, and Andromeda had not yet been to fetch Teddy from her mother-in-law. She and Nymphadora had both been too exhausted and emotionally drained that night to give the baby what he needed, and Andromeda knew he'd be well looked after by Eileen Tonks. She had telephoned, though, when they'd arrived from Hogwarts, so Eileen would be expecting her sometime today.

Tying a dressing gown on over her nightdress, Andromeda walked through to the kitchen and put the kettle on, leaning on the kitchen counter as she looked out into the summer garden, busy with insects and birds even at this early hour. That only made the house seem more silent, however, so Andromeda busied herself with attempting to make toast. 'Attempting' being the operative word: Andromeda usually only cooked once a year, breakfast on Ted's birthday, and it was generally barely edible. Dora wasn't much better but could make food that was tolerable, Remus was a decent cook and Ted was amazing at it, so Andromeda didn't often have to feed herself. After burning the sixth piece of toast to an inedible crisp, Andromeda gave up and took her tea into the bathroom to get ready to go and collect Teddy. Maybe she'd pick up a sandwich at a Muggle supermarket on the way back.

Andromeda apparated with a soft 'pop' in the middle of a small copse of trees in a park just down the road from her mother-in-law's house. The sun was already hot, though it was not yet mid-morning, and Andromeda felt warm after the short walk down the street to the front door. She felt the slight tingle of magic as she passed through the wards that Ted had set on every Muggle dwelling in the street, though Eileen's house was additionally protected by a Fidelius charm, of which Andromeda was Secret-Keeper. Ted's much greater risk of being killed in the war meant she was the obvious choice, as the charm was greatly weakened by being diluted between several people following the Secret-Keeper's death.

Andromeda's heels clipped noisily as she walked up the short stone path through the neatly maintained front garden. This was the only place Eileen grew flowers, the back garden being turned over to vegetables and fruit for the kitchen. Andromeda admired her mother in law's patience, weeding all that without magic, despite the fact that she was in her seventies. Reaching the cheerful yellow door, Andromeda pressed the bell and waited.

A few moments later, it opened. Eileen stood there, blocking the doorway.

"Hello, Meda, dear. It's lovely to see you, but I have to check who you are," she said pleasantly. "What was the first film you watched with us all, dear?"

"The Sound of Music," Andromeda replied. "I suppose I may as well check you too." She spent a moment thinking of a suitable question, then decided to stick with the theme. "Well, seeing as we're talking about The Sound of Music, what is 'fa'?"

"A long long way to run," Eileen responded instantly, unable to resist singing the line rather than just saying it. She stepped back from the doorway. "Come in, love. Teddy's in the living room. I wasn't going to bring him to the door until I was sure it was you."

Andromeda stepped through the door into the small hallway and followed Eileen into the living room, which was made cozy by blankets and cushion covers handmade by Ted's youngest sister Katherine. Most available surfaces were covered in photographs of family and friends or souvenirs from holidays and days out, and while the room was clean, it was anything but tidy. Eileen resembled her son in that way.

Eileen moved a pile of books off the armchair near the fireplace. "Sit down, love. Teddy's asleep," she added, bending over the pram near the sofa. "Have you seen, his hair changes colours as he dreams?"

Andromeda nodded. "Like Nymphadora's."

Eileen sighed. "Poor Dora. She and Remus were just getting settled, weren't they? The world's just not fair sometimes."

Andromeda curled her lip. "It was Antonin Dolohov. Who did it. My mother suggested him as an appropriate suitor at one point, before my parents settled on Rabastan Lestrange."

"Well, you must be crazy, my dear," Eileen said with a slight smile. "To refuse such fine, kind men in favour of my Ted."

Her voice cracked a little at her son's name, making Andromeda's stomach twist with guilt, but Andromeda was determined not to tell her that Ted might still be alive until it was certain. It was too cruel to torment a mother with hope like that.

Turning more serious, Eileen added: "it must be very hard for you, Andromeda. It's always so much easier to deal with evil when you can just dismiss its perpetrators as inhuman monsters. Much more difficult when you know them as people."

"Oh, I have no problem with the inhuman monster thing for Dolohov or Lestrange. Anyway, all Dolohov did was try and feel me up at dances. It was disgusting."

Eileen shuddered and wrinkled her nose. "Well, now we've thoroughly put ourselves off any food, would you like some breakfast?"

Andromeda smiled. "What makes you think I haven't already had it?"

"The famous Black anti-cooking gene, dear." Eileen chuckled. "Why, am I wrong?"

"No," Andromeda admitted. "I burnt six pieces of toast this morning."

"The toaster is easier than magic, I've heard."

"For the last three I used the toaster."

Eileen burst out laughing. "Oh, I'm sorry, dear. But how can anyone burn toast using a toaster?"

"The famous Black anti-cooking gene, apparently."

Eileen smiled. "Well, I think the defeat of He-Who-Is-A-Complete-Prat deserves a bacon sandwich."

Andromeda raised her eyebrows at the name. "Really, Eileen?"

"Well, since the Taboo I've had to be inventive, dear. Bacon or sausages? Or both?"

"Mm, bacon, please. Can I help?"

"Sorry, dear, I am quite attached to my kitchen, I'd rather it remain standing. You can come through and chat to me, though. Just don't touch the toaster."

Smiling, Andromeda followed her mother-in-law through to the kitchen. Unlike the rest of the house, the kitchen was tidy and mostly clear of knick-knacks: Andromeda knew from what Ted had said that cooking in a cluttered kitchen was a frustrating process. The main decoration came from a few postcards sat on the windowsill alongside some pots of herbs, and a noticeboard covered in photos. Eileen had never quite mastered the art of taking the older photos down to make room for new, so they were pinned higgledy-piggledy over each other and blue-tacked to the orange tiled wall around the edge of the noticeboard. Andromeda smiled sadly at one of Ted tickling her mercilessly. She'd had a little too much wine at the time, or she'd never have let herself be photographed acting so inelegantly. Black upbringing could be a strong force.

Eileen pulled a stainless steel frying pan from a wooden shelf above the cooker and poured in a little oil, turning on the gas ring and moving the pan to sit over it. Crossing the kitchen, she took a packet of bacon from the fridge, and moved the butter and tomato ketchup from the cupboard to the kitchen table.

"Sit down, Meda," she called, now grabbing a home-baked loaf of bread, chopping board and knife. "Would you like some tea, dear?"

"Yes please. I can make that," Andromeda offered.

"Don't be silly, love, you sit there and rest," Eileen ordered. Having cut four perfectly straight slices from the loaf, Eileen picked up the kettle and went to fill it, before slipping the bacon into the hot oil. Eileen did not go in for low-fat methods of cooking.

"Where is Dora, anyway?" Eileen asked. "Did she just not feel up to coming? I can understand it, poor love."

Andromeda shook her head. "She's got some work to do. Auror stuff, you know. Trying to find those who are missing."

Eileen shook her head fondly. "That's our Dora. Always thinks of others before herself. You will make her take some time to grieve, though, Meda? I'm sure she'll need it." Barely even glancing away from Andromeda, Eileen pulled out a couple of mugs, dropped in teabags and filled them with hot water. Andromeda recognised the 'World's Best Mum' mug Ted had bought his mother the year after he'd married Andromeda, with its characteristic line where Eileen had superglued on the handle when it broke. Ted had pointed out that he could repair it flawlessly with magic, but was met only with a dismissive "well, then it won't look so well-loved, dear".

Andromeda felt her eyes welling up, and blinked hard.

"Oh, sweetheart," Eileen said, coming over to pull Andromeda into a hug. "I'm sorry, I didn't think."

Andromeda shook her head. "He'd like to think you still use it."

Eileen squeezed her more tightly, waiting for a few minutes before responding. "It's one of my favourites, although I don't think it's entirely accurate. I very much doubt I'm the world's best Mum."

"Yes, you are," Andromeda said forcefully. "You're better than mine."

Eileen smiled. "In that case, you can get me a mug that says 'Not the World's Worst Mum'."

"I don't think Mother was the world's worst. Aunt Walburga was definitely crazier. And crueller."

"Crazier than the woman who tried to match-make you with this Dolohov bloke?"

"Oh, definitely. Aunt Walburga thought I should marry Coibin Nott when he became a widower, and he was twenty-five years my senior."

Eileen shook her head as she returned to the frying pan, turning the bacon over again. "And they wonder why you ever wanted to get out of that society?"

"At least Dolohov bought me a diamond necklace." Andromeda smirked. "That was a nice hundred Galleons. Sorted Ted and I out for most of the living room furniture and a TV."

Eileen looked shocked. "You never brought it away with you and sold it?"

"I took all my jewellery," Andromeda answered. "How do you think Ted and I saved up for a deposit so quickly?"

"Did he know?"

"Ted? Well, he knew I'd brought some money away with me, but he didn't know exactly where it came from until after we'd bought everything with it."

Eileen gave her head a despairing shake. "Ever the Slytherin. Did you sell all of it?"

"I kept a couple of things Narcissa and Bellatrix gave me, but I think I'm going to sell Bellatrix's now. There'd be a lovely irony in putting it into a trust fund for Teddy."

Eileen didn't give the laugh Andromeda expected, instead tilting her head on one side. "Do you feel any grief for her?"

"Bellatrix tried to kill Nymphadora," Andromeda said bitterly in response.

Eileen seemed unfazed by this news. "You know, that doesn't actually answer the question." She pulled out a plate. "Luckily for you, though, your sandwich is ready. But if you ever want to talk about it…"

"No, thank you, Eileen, I'll be fine," Andromeda said, her tone becoming suddenly haughtier.

Eileen sighed, and when she spoke her voice was quiet. "You need Ted. He'd have got you to open up in no time."

"He doesn't play fair," Andromeda muttered. "He does that thing where he just looks at me until I start talking."

Eileen didn't comment on Andromeda's use of the present tense. "Well, I always find crispy bacon makes everything better," she said, sliding Andromeda's plate and mug of tea in front of her.

Andromeda took a sip of tea from her mug, which had a picture of a dinosaur and the words 'Natural History Museum'. Andromeda remembered the trip: she'd joined Eileen and her sister-in-law Lizzie for the day in London. The two of them were staying for a few days, as the Tonks family were from Yorkshire and it would have hardly been worth travelling down for a single day, but of course Andromeda could Apparate. Ted had been working, so it had been just the three women together. Andromeda'd been full of questions about how the Muggles could know how old the dinosaur bones were, and Lizzie had made a not entirely successful attempt to explain carbon dating to someone who'd never even been taught about atoms. It had been a fun day though, and Andromeda smiled as she bit into her bacon sandwich, remembering it.

Her thoughts were broken by a cry from the living room. She began to get to her feet, but Eileen waved her back down.

"Don't worry, love, I'll get him. I've got missed time to make up," she added.

That was true. Andromeda and Ted had barely seen any of his Muggle family since Voldemort's return, judging it to be too risky. It had been refreshing to see Eileen again. Andromeda was still grateful for the kind, non-judgmental welcome she'd received when she'd shown up on her mother-in-law's doorstep, disowned and homeless. She'd felt incredibly awkward for about ten minutes, but Eileen's easygoing manner and kindness had soon calmed her down. It had stood in sharp contrast to her own detached, cold family atmosphere.

Eileen returned with a squalling Teddy, interrupting Andromeda's chain of thought. "Be a dear and heat up this milk, Meda," she said, passing Andromeda a bottle. "You can do it faster than me, and this little man is _hungry_."

Andromeda smiled slightly as she waved her wand, casting a simple heating charm to boil and sterilize the bottle, then a cooling one to bring it back down to body temperature. The only time Eileen would let Ted or Andromeda help her with magic was if it benefitted someone else, like healing Dora's cousins' scraped knees or heating a baby's bottle. Once the bottle was ready, she passed it to Eileen, who shifted Teddy's position and offered it to him with practiced ease.

"That's better, isn't it," Eileen cooed adoringly at him.

Andromeda smiled. Most of the rest of the wizarding world might be nervous about the son of a werewolf, especially one linked by blood to people like Bellatrix, however remote that link might be. Yet it was clear Teddy would always have a home with this side of the family, and would receive the unconditional love that Andromeda had never found in her own upbringing.

Although maybe her family contained more of that than she'd thought. The idea came up suddenly in Andromeda's head, but it was a strong one. True, what Narcissa had done had been very far from the raging row she was sure Ted would have given to anyone who had tried to hurt a sibling's spouse. Well, his sister Kathryn's first husband not included, as he'd hit his wife on a regular basis, and Ted had had to be physically restrained from hexing him. But in the situation Narcissa had ended up in, even her half-hearted attempt at defending her brother-in-law had undoubtedly been risky. Andromeda had been pushing it to the back of her mind, uncertain what to think, but occasionally it struggled to the surface.

"Penny for them?" Eileen asked quietly, looking concerned.

Andromeda shook her head. "It's nothing. My sister."

"Bellatrix?" Eileen asked gently.

Andromeda shook her head. "Narcissa."

"She is alive, isn't she? You mentioned Bellatrix but you never said…"

"Oh, her whole family are fine, although they're facing criminal charges. Charges they'll no doubt manage to wriggle out of, knowing them."

"I'm afraid that's the way of the world, dear. Money has a lot more influence than it should."

Teddy interrupted the conversation by detaching his mouth from the bottle, his hair turning his favourite shade of pink. Eileen lifted him to her shoulder to burp him. Instantly his hair turned to Eileen's silvery grey.

Eileen laughed. "Oh, I think we've made friends, lovely," she said in sing-song tones. "Who's a gorgeous boy, then?" Her tone turning more serious, she addressed Andromeda. "Is that what's bothering you, your sister's trial?"

"It's nothing," Andromeda repeated. She simply felt unable to talk about it, even to her mother-in-law, who always listened kindly and without judgement. She did not even feel sure about what her feelings were, let alone how to put them into words. "I'd better take Teddy home soon," she added, as she waved her wand to clean her plate and put it back in the cupboard. "I want to be there when Nymphadora comes back."

Eileen nodded slowly. "Of course. Well, when you want to talk, Andromeda, you know how to use the telephone. Or just pop round, I'm usually here."

Andromeda had little intention of doing so, but her gratitude was sincere when she said: "Thank you, Mum."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting this: I've just started a new job so updates may be a little more sporadic for a while, but I'll try and keep them fairly frequent. Hope you enjoy!**

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There was a loud 'crack' as Ted apparated in a narrow gap in the hedgerow of the field behind his house. A group of starlings, startled, made a noisy escape as Ted struggled out from between the hawthorn shrubs and brushed the remains of a spider's web from his coat. He was wearing Muggle clothing, partly as their cottage was in a Muggle village, but mainly because Ted had always found it more comfortable and practical than robes. It was quite late, but as it was July there was still some light in the sky, despite the fact that it had been grey and rainy all day. The house looked welcoming underneath the dark grey sky: even more so as Ted hadn't laid eyes on it for about ten months.

Eagerly, Ted began to rapidly squelch around the edge of the muddy field towards the back garden gate. About halfway down the field he passed through the wards that, in theory, protected the house from Death Eaters, although since the Ministry had fallen these had had little effect. Ted remembered with a shudder the feeling of Rabastan Lestrange's Cruciatus Curse as the Death Eaters demanded to know where Harry Potter had gone. Thank the Lord, they hadn't touched Andromeda with a curse, but they had used brute force to hold her back as she'd tried to run towards him. The sound of her screams had been a million times more painful than Cruciatus.

Thank Merlin they were safe now… although he had no idea of Andromeda's mental state. Potterwatch had told him Andromeda and Nymphadora were alive, but Ted had noted there'd been no word of Remus, no mention of the baby Nymphadora had told him she was carrying just before he'd gone on the run, nothing about his own blood relatives, who although well-protected would have been an obvious target, and no news of Bellatrix or Narcissa, either of whom Andromeda would mourn, although she'd be slow to admit it, even to herself.

The gate squeaked slightly as Ted let himself in. He strode across the neatly maintained lawn, past the immaculate flowerbeds and the pond with its variety of different coloured fish. Finally, he reached the back door, muddy and disheveled. Taking a deep breath, he knocked hard on the blue-painted wood. It felt strange to stand outside his own door waiting for it to be answered.

Ted heard a series of clicks as bolts were slid back and the door was unlocked, the level of security a left-over habit from the times of danger. And then there she was.

"'Dromeda," he breathed softly, his eyes drinking her in, from the silky dark chestnut hair to the amazed expression in her deep brown eyes.

Andromeda choked as she took a step forward. "Ted!" she exclaimed, half-reaching for him before stopping herself. "I… we should check we really are…"

He nodded. "You're right, love," he whispered, unable to quite believe that he was really seeing her again, that they'd made it. "What was the first thing you said to me when I proposed?"

"I said 'are you bloody insane, Ted?!'" Andromeda responded with a slight smile. "Which I still think you were, but I can't pretend I'm not glad about it. You were shocked because it was the first time you'd heard me swear." She paused. "What was I confused about the first time we watched a football game together?"

Ted grinned. "You didn't understand how the game could end if there was only one ball and they already had it. It took a while for you to grasp the concept that it ended at a set time, and then that game ended up with extra time, which confused you even further." Ted spoke quickly, reaching out towards her while he was still halfway through the second sentence.

Andromeda gave a small, strangled sob as she fell into his arms, wrapping her own around his shoulders and squeezing him tightly. "Oh, Merlin, Ted!" she murmured against him, her voice thick with tears.

Ted could feel tears running down his own cheeks as well. "Shh, it's OK," he said softly, rubbing slow circles on her back. "I'm not leaving you again."

"Don't you dare even think about it, Ted Tonks," Andromeda mumbled into his chest.

They stood there for a while, until Ted belatedly realized that Andromeda was probably getting soaked to the skin, dressed only in her nightgown, dressing gown and slippers.

"Bugger, sorry, 'Dromeda, you must be freezing." He released her a little to smile down at her. "Reckon I can come in?"

She nodded and pulled away from him a little. "You never have to ask."

Ted reached down to unlace his filthy boots, planning to take them off on the doorstep and then step in.

"Don't worry about _that_!" Andromeda exclaimed in a choked voice.

"Wow, you really have missed me," he joked, stepping inside onto the mat instead before dropping his rucksack to the floor and taking his boots off. "How long do I have free reign to make a mess for?"

Andromeda raised an eyebrow at him in a traditionally condescending Black expression. "Whoever said anything about free reign? For that you need to leave for at least two years, you know."

"I don't think I could cope with that," Ted admitted. "I started missing you five minutes after I walked out the door." He paused and looked inquiringly into her eyes. "Did it work? They didn't bother you, did they?"

Andromeda shook her head. "They came and asked me if I knew where you were, but they didn't lay a wand on me even once. You kept us safe, darling," she said, her voice becoming thick again.

"Don't cry, 'Dromeda," Ted said quickly, reaching to put an arm around her. "It's OK now."

She shook her head. "They reported you dead, you know," she said softly.

Ted nodded. "I heard, 'Dromeda, and if I thought it was safe I'd have come and told you, I couldn't bear the thought of…."

She shook her head. "It wasn't safe, I know that. It isn't your fault. I still just can't believe you're really here."

"I know something that might help with that," Ted murmured, letting his eyes stray to her lips before returning his gaze to hers.

Andromeda gave him the ghost of a smile and tilted her head upwards, which was all the invitation he needed. The kiss was soft, gentle at first, neither of them quite able to believe the other was there, but soon Andromeda's lips pressed more urgently against his and she reached her arms up to wrap around his shoulders as he put his hands to her waist.

"Ted," she whispered again as they broke apart.

He responded by briefly touching his lips to hers once more. "I love you."

She smiled again, this time more strongly. "I love you too."


	8. Chapter 8

When Andromeda woke up, she felt for a moment like nothing had changed. Like it had all been a dream. Then she became aware of the warmth of Ted's shoulder against her head and his arms encircling her. She sighed deeply in contentment, and felt his lips touch her hair in response.

"Morning, 'Dromeda."

She lifted her head to stare at him in silence, still struggling to believe he'd really returned to her. Tears began to track their way down her face again, and she saw some glistening in his eyes as well.

"It's OK," he said soothingly, running his hand up and down her back.

She shook her head. While Ted returning was one of the best things that had happened in her life, second only to marrying him and giving birth to Dora, things still were far from OK. There was too much she had to tell him.

"I- Ted, there's something I need to tell you."

Ted's arms tightened suddenly at her waist. "Dora? Is it Dora? Potterwatch said…"

"No, she's alive, she's uninjured… but only just. We nearly lost her. But Ted, she did lose… we lost… Remus."

Ted's jaw dropped in an expression of shock, then the tears that had been gathering in his eyes began to roll down his cheeks. "Oh God," he muttered. "God, poor Dora."

Andromeda wrapped her arms a little more tightly around him in comfort.

"And… bugger, this is going to make things worse for her…"

Andromeda frowned. "What is?"

"Me. Being back."

Surely not… the thought had not occurred to Andromeda, but now he'd said it she could see how Ted's return might make it harder for Dora to accept Remus' death. But at the same time, her daughter would be overjoyed at the reunion. Ted and Dora had always been close, closer than Andromeda felt she was with their daughter.

"Don't, Ted, Dora loves you. When she thought…" Andromeda couldn't finish the sentence. "She was inconsolable."

"I'm so sorry. I never wanted either of you to go through that."

Andromeda pressed herself closer to him, letting her head rest against his chest, which was substantially more muscular now than it had been ten months ago. "It doesn't matter. You're home now."

She felt his breathing gradually steady and his tears subside, as did her own. Then he pressed his lips to the top of her head in a lingering kiss.

"I'm never leaving you again," he murmured into her hair.

"You'd better not. Or I might just take Rabastan Lestrange up on his proposal."

"Proposal?" Ted pulled back a little, allowing Andromeda to look up at him.

"Oh, yes. When they came around asking where you'd gone he told me there'd still be a 'proper marriage' available to me if I turned you in." Andromeda let go of Ted to sit up, propping herself against the pillows. "Oh, and of course if I disowned Dora and never spoke to her again."

"You're _kidding_. What did you do to him?"

"Oh, he was smart enough not to say any of that until he'd Disarmed me. But I think he'll have had a black eye for a month at least."

"Bloody hell, 'Dromeda, that was dangerous."

"Yes, for him."

Ted stared at her for a few seconds, then began to grin. Andromeda took the opportunity simply to look at him. Merlin, she'd missed that smile.

"Well, while you're deciding whether to take Lestrange up on that very tempting offer, can I make you breakfast?"

"Are you sure you feel well enough?" Andromeda's brow furrowed in concern. Despite a peaceful night's sleep, her husband was clearly still exhausted and strained from the ordeal of the last few months.

"'Course, love. I'm fine." He sat up, his slightly stiff movements belying his words, then swung himself to his feet and held a hand out to her.

Andromeda smirked, amused, but took his hand nonetheless and let him pull her to her feet. "I can get myself out of bed, you know."

"Ah, but this way I get an excuse to hold your hand."

Andromeda flushed deep scarlet. "Stop it. You're forty-six years old, not a teenager."

"And they say romance is dead," Ted laughed. "Come on. I'll make pancakes."

Ted had scarcely opened the bedroom door when a whirlwind of mousy-brown hair came barreling down the corridor. Nymphadora failed in her attempt to stop as she reached them, instead sliding on to the floor with an 'oomph'. Undeterred, she leapt to her feet in an instant and threw her arms around her father.

"DAD!"

Ted hugged her back tightly. "Dora!"

Dora pulled back to look at him. "I saw your boots by the door this morning but I couldn't quite believe it!" She squeezed him again. "You're alive!"

"Ow, Dora, you're like an anaconda." Ted wriggled a little, Dora's tight embrace evidently uncomfortable.

"Sorry, Dad." Eventually, she let him go.

Ted stared at her then, seemingly equally unable to believe she was there. "Dora… Mum told me, about Remus. I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

Dora bit her lip and blinked hard, but the action wasn't enough to stop tears escaping her eyes. Ted reached for her instantly, pulling her against his shoulder. "Dora…"

Andromeda reached out to stroke her daughter's hair, and slipped her other arm around her husband's shoulders. They stayed that way for a few moments, before Teddy's cry rent the air. Dora pulled away instantly.

"Er…" Ted said dazedly. "Is that… a baby?"

Dora nodded. "I'll be back in a minute."

Ted watched her retreating form, his face utterly bewildered. "Um… er… but… but…" He turned to Andromeda, who bit back her laugh at the expression on his face. "How…. Where…?"

"Ted, please tell me you're not about to ask me where babies come from."

"But… how…."

"Because you're not getting a practical demonstration. At least not until after breakfast."

He stared at her, his confusion evident by the fact that he didn't even crack a smile at her joke.

"Ted, you knew she was pregnant when you left. How is this such a surprise?"

"I'm a grandad?"

Finally, a word of more than one syllable. "Yes."

"Really?" Ted's confused expression was beginning to turn into a smile of delight.

"Yes, really. We even named him Teddy, after you. He's four months old, and as healthy as can be. And he's a Metamorphmagus, too."

Ted was smiling broadly now. "Not a werewolf?"

"Not a werewolf."

"Can I go and see him?"

Andromeda could no longer hold back a beaming smile at her husband's obvious delight. "Of course you can."

Andromeda followed her husband into Dora's room, which was painted bright pink and covered in an assortment of posters, featuring both the Weird Sisters and a variety of Muggle bands and films. These had been present since Nymphadora was a teenager, but the last year had added Remus' small set of possessions (mainly books), a cot, changing table and what seemed like endless piles of the various accessories needed for a baby. The room was, as it had always been, a complete and total mess.

Dora was standing next to the cot, Teddy resting in her arms and sucking contentedly on a bottle.

"Bloody hell," Ted whispered.

Dora turned round at the sound of her father's voice. "Teddy, meet your grandad," she said softly. "Dad, you can come closer, you know."

Ted took a few hesitant steps to close the distance between himself and Dora. "Wow, Dora, he's perfect."

Nymphadora smiled, the first true smile Andromeda had seen since the battle, although something in her expression was still strained.

"Except the name," Ted added. "Though at least it means my Mum'll have to stop calling _me_ Teddy, now."

"Well, being terrible at baby names runs in the family," Nymphadora joked, though her voice was flat.

"There is nothing wrong with the name Nymphadora, Nymphadora," Ted said mock-strictly.

"Ouch, Dad. Twice in one sentence, that's not fair."

Ted grinned his trademark goofy smile, and Nymphadora's lips twitched upwards in response, though the movement was slight.

"When's his birthday?" Ted asked.

"April 15th. He was a little late," Dora said. "We wondered if he might be born at Easter."

"Ooh, chocolate eggs and birthday presents, that would have been good. Although Easter moves around a lot, I suppose, so not every year." Ted reached over to touch Teddy's hand, which curled tightly around his finger. "I'm really a grandad?"

"Well, he's definitely Nymphadora's baby," Andromeda said drily, her face and tone as haughty as possible. "So unless you're accusing me of adultery I suppose you must be."

Ted looked around, his expression concerned. "'Dromeda, I would never-"

Andromeda let her smile show then. "Got you."

Ted looked at her for a second, then started laughing. "Good one." His expression became more serious as he looked back at Teddy. "I just can't believe it," he said in wonder.

They stood in silence for a while, watching Teddy finish his bottle and Dora lift him to her shoulder to burp him. When she'd finished, she held him out towards her father.

"Do you want to hold him, Dad?"

"I can't think of anything I'd like more," Ted said in a choked voice as he took Teddy from Nymphadora.

Immediately, the baby's hair turned Ted's shade of blond. Andromeda wasn't sure whether to laugh or to cry, it was one of those moments. It looked so much like the first time Ted had held Nymphadora: her hair had changed too, just like that, and Ted had the same dumbstruck, lovesick expression that he'd had then, although this time there was less fear in his face. Ted had been so scared, they both had; not only about the burden of being new parents, but about what might happen to the baby if Andromeda's family found her.

"That takes me back," Andromeda murmured, moving to stand close to her husband and grandson.

"Doesn't it just," Ted whispered. "Hello, little one."

Andromeda looked down into Teddy's face. He had Remus' nose, but Nymphadora's mouth, and Andromeda had no doubt that he'd soon be smiling the same cheeky grin Dora had almost always had on her lips. Teddy's eyelids were heavy, fighting sleep, but he kept occasionally sneaking glances up at them.

"He's perfect," Ted said hoarsely, looking up at Nymphadora.

Dora gave him a bitter smile in return. "Thanks, Dad. I'm so glad you could meet him."

Ted touched the palm of Teddy's hand with a finger, watching as the baby's fingers curled sleepily around it. "I'm going to do a lot more than meet him, Dora. As soon as he can walk he's coming to see Leeds play. I'm not having him like Quidditch more than football. I think my mistake with you was that I didn't start the indoctrination process early enough."

Dora smiled again, but that was all. Andromeda's gut twisted as she realized that this was the sort of comment that would normally have got a laugh from their daughter, or at least a teasing response back about Quidditch just simply being more interesting to anyone with any sense. She felt tears prickle behind her eyelids and could not understand what was wrong with her. Andromeda rarely cried, and she had not even really known Remus that well. Concern for her daughter was no excuse: the last thing Nymphadora needed was to have to look after a mother who was falling to pieces. Andromeda forced the tears back with strength of will, but realized she had not been entirely successful in disguising her emotion when she sensed her husband's eyes on her.

She met his gaze, and saw instantly that he'd recognized her moment of… grief? Distress? He said nothing, though, merely looked at her gently, telling her without words that they'd speak about it later. Then he turned towards Dora.

"Well, I think this little man is asleep," he whispered, moving over to the cot and setting the baby down gently. "Who wants some of my world-famous pancakes?"

Andromeda smiled at him, suddenly filled with intense gratitude that somehow she'd been lucky enough to marry this man, that they'd both been lucky enough to survive. "Mmm, yes please."


	9. Chapter 9

'Oh, hurry up, Eileen,' Andromeda thought to herself. She sat with the Muggle telephone pressed against her ear, her stomach churning with nerves. She had no idea how to tell her mother-in-law the news, and was not quite sure what Eileen's reaction to being kept in the dark this long would be. After what seemed like an age, she heard her mother-in-law's cheerful "Hello?"

"Hello, Eileen, it's Andromeda."

"Oh, hello, dear. How are you?"

Andromeda swallowed nervously. "I'm very well, thank you, and yourself?"

"You don't sound very well," Eileen said, ignoring the question.

"No, I am… it's just there's something I need to tell you."

Andromeda heard the tension as Eileen took a breath. "Is it Dora?"

"No, no, it's good news, it's just…. it's going to come as a bit of a shock."

"OK, dear. Go on," Eileen said after a moment's silence.

Andromeda bit the inside of her lip in anxiety. "It… it's about Ted."

"Teddy?" Eileen asked. "Dora's Teddy?"

Andromeda shook her head, then belatedly realized how stupid that was when using a telephone. "No. Ted, your son."

Andromeda heard Eileen's gasp. "You've found his body, haven't you? Did they… did they hurt him very badly?"

Andromeda shook her head yet again before realizing. Stupid Muggle inventions, she'd never got the hang of them. "No, it isn't that at all. He- he's alive."

" _What?!"_ Eileen's voice seemed to double in pitch.

"Alive. And unhurt. He returned home yesterday. I'm sorry, Eileen…"

"Sorry?"

"I mean, I'm sorry that you- that we didn't know before."

"It isn't your fault," Eileen said almost automatically, speaking at twice her normal pace. "Can I come over, Andromeda, I have to see him."

"He could Apparate and come to see y-"

"No, no, I'll come to him, he must be exhausted."

"You shouldn't drive in this state, Eileen."

"Yes, well, dear, we can't all be magical, and I daresay it's less dangerous than Apparating."

Andromeda opened her mouth to protest, but before she could say anything she heard the strange beeping sound that meant Eileen had put the telephone down. Andromeda put hers down too, her hands shaking. She didn't understand why it suddenly felt so difficult to do everything she needed to. Andromeda composed herself, however, as she heard footsteps and the door open.

"Would my gorgeous wife like more coffee?"

Andromeda turned to him with a slight smile. "I'm fine, but you'll need to put a pot on for your mother."

"You've told her?" Ted's expression was a mixture of joy and worry. "How did she take it?"

"I don't really know," Andromeda admitted. "She told me she was coming over here, that's about it."

"Oh, brilliant!" Ted smiled. "I've missed her so much."

Andromeda dug her nails into the palm of the hand that was resting on her thigh. "Ted, darling… she didn't know that I knew the death announcement might have been wrong. I didn't want to get her hopes up."

He was silent for a few seconds, watching her. "I won't tell her… but you dealt with all that on your own?"

She shook her head. "Dora knew, but only because Harry Potter said something in front of her. Actually, I should write to him and let him know you're alive… I should write to a lot of people, really."

He nodded. "Well, let Mum tell the rest of the family, she'll want to anyway, and at least she isn't terrified of the phone. Can I help with anything?"

Andromeda fixed him with her best haughty glare. "I am not frightened of the telephone."

"I do remember when we first got married, you know. Ten months in the woods hasn't given me amnesia," he said with a grin.

"I admit I was a little nervous of it then. And no, I don't think there's much you can do."

"OK, love. I'll put the kettle on for Mum while you write some of those letters."

Andromeda watched as he disappeared back down the hall. She had moments where she felt unable to take her eyes off him, as though he would disappear again if she didn't pay enough attention. But she had things to do, so with a sigh she took up her quill and a piece of parchment and began to write.

 _Dear Mr Potter,_

 _I daresay you are inundated with letters at present, so I will keep this brief. I am writing to inform you that my husband Ted Tonks returned last night, and to thank you for the part you had in helping us find each other, as well as, of course, the service you have done us all by ending this dreadful war._

 _I trust you will pass this message on to your friends Hermione and Ronald, and perhaps you might also do me the favour of letting the Weasley family know, as I'm sure Arthur will be keen to resume his correspondence with my husband about various Muggle objects. I expect you would also like to attend Remus' funeral: I will send you further information once we have made the necessary arrangements._

 _Yours in gratitude,_

 _Mrs Andromeda Tonks._

Putting her quill down, Andromeda reached for the door of Nivian's cage. Nivian was a majestic eagle owl, whose cage was kept next to the oak fold-out writing desk in the study, making the business of writing letters that much more efficient.

"Could you take this to Harry Potter for me?" she asked as she tied the letter to the owl's leg. "I'm afraid I've got a busy day for you today. I expect Mr Potter is at the Burrow."

Andromeda took up her quill again to write a similar letter to Kingsley Shacklebolt and a number of other wizarding friends and acquaintances, planning to leave the letters piled up and send them out when Nivian returned. As she moved onto the third letter, she heard the doorbell ring, Ted's footsteps and Eileen's joyful shout. Andromeda decided to stay in the study a little longer, to give the two of them some privacy for their reunion. As she sealed the envelope, however, she heard Eileen's voice asking after her, and stood, walking through to the living room.

It was already substantially less tidy than it had been, with a Daily Prophet split into its several constituent parts all over the coffee table, and a pile of documents relating to registering a death and funeral arrangements scattered all over the place. Dora currently had her arm wrapped tightly around her grandmother, giving Teddy, who Dora was holding, little space to breathe.

"It's so wonderful to see you, Nana!"

"You too, love. I'm so sorry about Remus. I'm sure he was a wonderful man."

Andromeda waited for the two of them to pull apart and Eileen to turn joyfully back to her son, who had sat down at one end of the sofa in his usual relaxed, almost slouching pose.

"Can I offer you something to drink, Eileen?"

"I'll do it, 'Dromeda," Ted said quickly, rising to his feet. "You've had enough to do today."

"Oh, I'm sure I can sort myself out, love," Eileen said quickly. "You should rest. Is there anything I can do to help, Meda?"

"Would you mind calling the rest of the family, Mum?" Ted said before Andromeda could answer. "'Dromeda's got a pile of owls to send…"

"Well, that sounds like an RSPCA nightmare," Eileen interrupted jokingly.

"Not literally, Mum! A pile of letters and she'll send them all with Nivian."

"I expect it'll take all day," Andromeda said. "We really should get another owl."

"Well, yes, of course, I'll call everyone right away," Eileen said. "They're all going to want to come and see him immediately, though, 'Meda. Will you and Dora be okay with a houseful tonight?"

"Sure, Nana," Dora said, smiling wider than Andromeda had seen her do in the last few days. "I'd love to see everyone, I've missed them."

Eileen turned to look expectantly at Andromeda.

"Dora's the one who's grieving, Eileen," Andromeda said after a long pause. "If she can cope I'm sure I can. Anyway, I'd be overjoyed to see everyone as well."

"Are you sure Dora _is_ the only one who's grieving, Andromeda love?"

"Well, of course I miss Remus too-" Andromeda began, despite her suspicion that that wasn't who her mother-in-law meant.

"I didn't mean Remus, dear."

Andromeda glanced uncertainly at Ted. She'd not told him about Bellatrix: she'd had no idea about how to even bring the subject up, let alone how to tackle it.

"Who did you mean, then?" Dora asked, confused. "Dad's back. We didn't… lose… anyone else."

"You didn't, Dora, because she never wanted to know you," Eileen said softly. "But Andromeda did."

Dora's jaw dropped in shock as she realized what her grandmother was alluding to, but the expression didn't last long, being rapidly replaced by stony indifference. "Mum doesn't care about _her!_ "

Ted, who had been anxiously following this exchange, suddenly seemed to come to some realization. He leapt to his feet and crossed the room hurriedly to embrace his wife. "Oh, 'Dromeda, I'm so sorry. Which… was it Narcissa?"

"Bella. And Dora's right, Ted, I don't care."

He pulled back a little to look at her, blue eyes boring searchingly into her own dark brown ones. "Sure?"

She nodded. "Sure."

"Well, if you wanted to talk about it…"

"I know," she said softly, giving his shoulders a slight squeeze. "Thank you."

"Well," Eileen said, once Ted and Andromeda broke apart. "If you're sure being invaded by the entire family won't be too much inconvenience, I'll go and start calling them."

Ted nodded. "If you want to finish your letters, 'Dromeda, I'll bring you both some coffee. Then I can help Dora with all… this." He gestured to the scattered pile of documents relating to funerals. "It already looks like every single death has to be registered in the same office within the Ministry. They put a delay on the deadline you have to do it by because of the war, but we've still only got a couple of days. It'll be a nightmare, it must be so busy. Erm, 'Dromeda, who's registering Bellatrix?"

"They've probably got the message from all the people singing 'Ding Dong the Witch is Dead'," Dora cut in, before Andromeda had any chance to reply.

"Dora!" Ted exclaimed, while Eileen tutted disapprovingly.

"Nymphadora, that's very unkind. And that's not at all like you, dear, you're usually one of the kindest people I know," Eileen said.

Nymphadora frowned. "Since when do you call me _Nymphadora,_ Nan?"

"Oh, haven't you encountered Mum's habit of going for full names when she's mad?" Ted kept his voice light, but Andromeda could see him sneaking concerned glances at her.

Feeling she should probably speak quickly, before her husband became any more worried, Andromeda said: "I imagine Narcissa will register the death. I certainly have no wish to be involved."

"See, Nana, Dad, I told you Mum doesn't care," Dora said confidently. "I wouldn't have said it if I thought you did, Mum," she added, looking at Andromeda.

Andromeda nodded. "I know, darling."

Eileen shook her head. "It isn't just that, Dora, dear. In this family we don't speak ill of the dead."

"Eileen, you called He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named He-Who-Is-A-Complete-Prat the other day," Andromeda pointed out.

Ted snorted. "That's brilliant. 'Dromeda told you about the Taboo, then?"

"Naturally." Eileen's grin was almost identical to her son's. "Anyway, I should go and phone the rest of the family, or they'll never forgive me."


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:** So this is as far as I have written with this story so far, so there may be a bit of a delay before the next update. Hope you enjoy anyway and I'll do my best to get it out as soon as possible!

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Suddenly, Dora threw down the pamphlet on options for coffins that she'd been holding and buried her face in her hands. Her Dad, who was sitting beside her, looked up from the obituary he'd been writing up neatly for her to send to the Prophet, and reached to put an arm around her.

"You alright, sweetheart?"

Dora struggled to answer, the weight of her emotions threatening to overwhelm her. She felt her Dad put his arm around her shoulders and squeeze them tightly.

"It must be so hard. He was such a great man."

Dora pulled away from him. She still didn't feel ready to hear this, Remus' life being discussed with such finality. Trying to write the obituary hadn't really helped, either, and looking at coffins was even worse. The bombardment of condolence cards and letters had begun, as well, with three letters arriving that day alone. Two of them she hadn't minded so much, coming from the Weasley family and Hermione Granger respectively, but one of them had been from Dawlish, a colleague who had rather old-fashioned views on werewolves and who'd barely spoken to her for the last year. Her inability to believe he really cared about Remus' death led her to suspect he was just trying to cozy up to her as an ex-Order member for his own advancement, which made her sick to her stomach.

"Did I say something wrong?"

Looking towards her father, Dora saw he had his head on one side, concerned and a little guilty, and she hastened to reassure him. "No, Dad. It's just I… I can't really bear to talk about him right now."

Ted nodded. "OK. Well, I'm here whenever you do… or, you know, for whatever you need."

Dora sighed. "I'm going to get some air for a bit."

"That sounds like a good idea. D'you want me to-"

"Alone, Dad."

Dora barely paused to pull her shoes on before heading out of the door and walking quickly up the Muggle street. Her parents lived on the outskirts of a small Yorkshire town, with neat, stone-built houses lining the streets and a traditional market square. Dora loved the countryside around the area with its rolling hills and little copses of woodland: it was usually possible to quickly find somewhere where there was no-one else in sight, and you could feel alone in the world. Especially if you knew where to go.

Dora reached the end of the street and turned into a short alleyway that led to another street, from where she could take a footpath up the hill towards the woods. It was another hot day, and Dora could feel the sun burning the back of her neck: her natural skin tone was very pale, and she sunburnt easily, but being a Metamorphmagus and a witch meant she never had to worry about applying suncream. Though right now she was finding it impossible to morph, at least in a controlled way. She could express anger and frustration through random, uncontrolled changes, but that was about it, a reflection of her depressed and turbulent emotions.

Dora had to admit that on some level it was relieving just to be able to walk, without feeling constantly on the watch for Death Eaters, but the relief was eclipsed by the enormity of her grief. The emotion had come on suddenly as she'd been sitting with her father: while she'd been crying plenty so far, it had been more out of shock than anything else. Writing Remus' obituary had made it feel suddenly real, and trying to choose a coffin was even worse.

Dora paused partway up the stony path at a gate, which allowed her to look into a field of horses previously concealed by the hedge. She'd always loved to stop here as a child and pet them, and once, aged eight, had unintentionally Vanished the gate, allowing the horses to wander onto the path where she could get closer to them. Her Mum had fixed the mistake, and she'd had a stern lecture about trying harder to control her magic. Her Dad had booked her a riding lesson the following week, though, so it hadn't been all bad.

Dora was suddenly filled with a longing for those days, where everything had been so much simpler. She realized, of course, that her parents had been desperately afraid at the time, as Voldemort and his followers were gaining power, that it hadn't in the grand scheme of things been a better time to be alive, but she'd been shielded so effectively from it that she'd felt safe. Magic had always surrounded her at home, and she'd met plenty of wizards and witches apart from her parents, but she'd spent very little time in the wizarding world itself before she went to Hogwarts. She'd whined and whined about attending Quidditch games, but Dora understood now why she'd so rarely been allowed to go.

Sighing, Dora pushed herself away from the gate, realizing she had better return to the house. Quite apart from not wanting to leave Teddy for too long, she was all-too-aware of the pile of jobs that needed doing on her return. The breath of air seemed to have done her some good, although she felt she really needed to be out for at least another hour before feeling fully calm. That was out of the question, though, so she began to walk slowly back down the stony, rutted path.

About fifteen minutes later, Dora reached the back door and pushed it open, forcing herself to remember to take her shoes off before she tracked mud all over her mother's polished kitchen floor.

"Wotcher, love," her Dad said as she arrived in the lounge again. "You look like you're feeling a bit better?"

Dora nodded. "What's all this?" she said, gesturing to a small pile of envelopes and delicate arrangements of flowers sitting on the coffee table.

"Three owls arrived in the half-hour you've been out," Ted said. "I didn't open them, left them all for you. Left the envelopes on top of each bunch so you know who's sent what."

Dora nodded, steeling herself as she sat down and slit open the first envelope, which was addressed with precise script. The card inside had a single pink flower on the front and the words ' _In Sympathy'_ which made Dora tear up again. She felt her father take her hand.

 _Dear Tonks,_

 _I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am about Remus' death. He was an amazing man and did so much good in the Order. I can't imagine how you must be feeling, but please let me know if there's anything I can do._

 _Kingsley._

"That's nice of him," Dora muttered, propping the card up on the table and waving her wand to summon a vase for the flowers. "From Kingsley," she added, passing her Dad the card.

"Kind of him to find the time," Ted said as he took it. "Prophet says he's Acting Minister right now, so things must be pretty hectic."

Dora reached for the next envelope while Ted was immersed in reading Kingsley's note. It had been kind of Kingsley, kind of everyone who had written, with the possible exception of Dawlish, but Dora still hated opening these things. It made it seem even more real that he'd gone, and it was one more thing she had to do.

 _Mrs Nymphadora Lupin_ was written across the front of the parchment in elegant italics, which did nothing to improve Dora's mood. 'Who the hell still calls me Nymphadora except Mum?' she thought to herself as she slit the seal open, paying little attention to the pattern stamped on it. Had she done, it might have prepared her for what she would find inside.

 _Dear Mrs Lupin,_

 _I am writing to express my deepest condolences upon the loss of your husband, Mr Remus Lupin. I must apologise that I have no card for the occasion, but my family and myself are currently under house arrest, meaning of course that I cannot visit Diagon Alley to purchase something more suitable for the purpose._

 _I daresay no words can comfort you during such a terrible time, but I hope you will accept these flowers from the grounds in token of my family's sympathy for you and your infant son on this distressing occasion. I would also wish to support you further by attending your husband's funeral, assuming of course that I have been released before that date. I understand, however, if you would prefer me not to attend._

 _Yours in condolence,_

 _Narcissa Malfoy._

Dora was silent for a few moments, staring in horrified shock at the letter. Then, the rage that had been rising within her in those few seconds bubbled dramatically over the surface.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!"

Ted, who had been putting Kingsley's flowers into the vase Dora had summoned, jumped, his hands sending the vase flying.

"Dora, what's the matter?"

Dora seized her wand, and began jabbing it at the flowers Narcissa had sent, exploding each one individually in bursts of red flame.

"Dora, what on Earth…"

She felt her father pull at the letter still clutched in her fingers, and released her grip. It would be easier than having to explain herself. He was silent for a second, his eyes scanning the parchment, then she felt him take hold of her wand hand.

"Dora, stop. Stop!"

Dora pulled her hand free and flourished her wand, setting the entire pile of flowers on fire. Ted quickly reached for the third bunch that had been lying beside Narcissa's and pulled them out of harm's way.

With the flowers gone, Dora rounded on her father.

"Give me the letter."

To her surprise, Ted shook his head, tucking it into his pocket and covering it with one hand to make it harder to summon magically.

Dora tried anyway. "Accio that bitch's insulting piece of-"

"Protego," Ted said calmly. "Dora, if you want to Summon something it helps if you keep the name short. You need to calm down."

Dora stared at him, incredulous. "I don't bloody need to calm down. How dare she!"

"How dare she what, apologise?"

"It wasn't a fucking apology and I don't care if it was! Give it to me, Dad, it's my letter."

Ted shook his head again. "I think your mother might want to see it."

"It isn't hers!"

"Isn't my what?" came Andromeda's voice from the doorway. Her mother's eyebrows were raised and her expression was disapproving, no doubt from hearing Dora's colourful language.

"Er-" Ted began slowly. "'Dromeda, love… I don't really know how to say this…"

Dora turned her furious eyes towards her mother. "That amoral cow you have for a sister thinks she can bloody write to me and invite herself to Remus' funeral!"

"… though I think I might have found a better way to break the news than that," Ted muttered. "Dora, say sorry to your mother."

"What the hell for!"

"For calling her sister… what you called her."

"Mum doesn't care!"

Dora looked expectantly towards her mother for support, but was surprised to see an expression her mother had never worn in front of her before. It was a mixture of sadness, longing and hope, partly but unsuccessfully covered by the haughty mask her mother usually adopted when she wanted to control her emotions. "…Do you?" Dora finished uncertainly. Crap.

Andromeda swallowed and spoke, her voice soft and hesitant. "May I read the letter, Nymphadora?"

Dora nodded mutely, watching as Ted crossed the room and passed the letter to Andromeda.

A thousand emotions seemed to flicker over Andromeda's face as she read the letter, and for a moment after she finished she did not look at either of them, taking several deep breaths. However, when she lifted her head again her face was composed.

"I assume you would prefer it if Narcissa did not attend the funeral?"

"Well, yeah. Why the hell would I want her there?"

Andromeda nodded. "Would you like me to write and inform her of that, or would you prefer to do so yourself?"

"We don't have to write back to her, do we?"

"If we don't, there's a chance she may just show up, Dora," Andromeda said slowly.

"I really think it's best if you write, 'Dromeda," Ted interjected. "I'm not sure Dora can do it without swearing."

"No, I can't," Dora admitted. "OK, Mum, but make sure you sound unfriendly."

Ted gave Dora a small shake of his head. "That's not really up to you, Dora."

"I'll do my best to represent your feelings as accurately, and diplomatically, as I can," Andromeda said carefully. "Will that do?"

"Just don't go getting all friendly with her. She only wants to cosy up to us because she thinks it'll get her out of Azkaban," Dora said harshly.

"Dora, you don't know that's why," Ted said. "Maybe she's genuinely sorry for how this whole war turned out. Maybe…" he glanced at Andromeda and trailed off. "Hey, maybe she's just really hoping for free sandwiches."

"Not funny, Dad!" Dora glared at him.

"Sorry," Ted said instantly. "Sorry, that was really stupid…"

"Don't worry," Dora said.

She turned back towards the final bunch of flowers, and heard her mother quietly leave the room, presumably to start drafting a letter to her sister. Dora felt a tightening of anxiety as her eyes drifted to the clock and she realized nearly an hour had gone by without her moving any further down her long list of tasks. Teddy would be up soon and then it would be even harder to make progress. Dora sighed, and went to pick up the letter. She simply couldn't delay any longer.

"God, at this rate I wouldn't be surprised if this one's from Dolores Umbridge."

Ted shuddered. "Now there's someone who actually would be up for obvious displays of sycophancy if she thought it would get her further up in the Ministry. Or, well, out of Azkaban now I suppose."

"Meaning that Malfoy woman isn't?"

Ted didn't rise to the bait. "You don't have time for this, Dora," he reminded her gently.

Dora knew he was right, and opened the final letter with a sigh as she realized it ran on for several pages.

 _Dear Mrs Lupin,_

 _Ginny says you really don't like being called by your first name, Nymphadora, but I don't understand why really. Is it because other people laugh at it? People laugh at me quite a lot but I don't really mind that much. They only do it because of the Wrackspurts, you know. Nymphs get followed around by clouds of Wrackspurts, did you know that? So maybe that's why. Anyway, I think it's a really lovely name._

 _Anyway, I'm writing to say how sorry I was to hear that Professor Lupin had died. He taught me in my second year and he was really nice and a really great teacher. We once had a long conversation about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, he seemed very interested, and I learnt so much in Defence Against the Dark Arts that year. I still don't understand why he had to leave at the end of that year: I realized he was probably a werewolf in the October… either that or he'd been badly affected by Nargles… but he obviously wasn't dangerous or he would have already hurt someone by then. It was quite sad when he left, it was nice having a teacher who didn't laugh at me. I think I met you when Bill and Fleur Weasley got married. It was a very nice ceremony, until the Death Eaters came in and interrupted it._

 _Ginny told me you're an Auror as well and you fought with the Order of the Phoenix. I think you rescued us at the Department of Mysteries. That was very nice of you, especially when you fought Bellatrix. I think she had one of the worst Wrackspurt infestations I've ever seen, they were all spinning around her head, you know._

There followed several pages enlightening Dora on the 'Rotfang Conspiracy', which she was apparently supposed to have been inducted into as part of her Auror training. In contrast, Dora still didn't understand what it was supposed to involve even after scanning the middle section of the letter several times.

 _Anyway, I know you'll be feeling horrible now, it was the same way when my Mother died, although I was quite young at the time so maybe it was different. It does get better though and I'm sure it will for you._

 _I hope you like the flowers: I was going to send you some Dirigible Plums as they help to keep away Nargles but Ginny said flowers were more traditional._

 _Love from,_

 _Luna Lovegood._

Dora stared silently at the letter for a few moments after she finished reading it, her brain feeling like it was spinning in circles with the effort of trying to make sense of it. A few seconds later, though, it gave up, and Dora suddenly started laughing, much to her Dad's surprise.

"Dora?"

"Read this," she said, pushing it towards him, feeling lighter-hearted than she had all day.

"What's a Wrackspurt?" Ted asked after a few minutes.

Dora shook her head fondly. Even though she'd only met the Lovegood girl once, she'd immediately liked her. "No idea."

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I found Luna's voice REALLY hard to put across in this, so any feedback would be very welcome (and apologies if I offend any Luna fans- I love her too I promise!). She's a hard one to write though!


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** I have no idea about legal terminology, so sorry if anything seems off here, although the wizarding world legal system is quite different anyway. Please let me know if anything sticks out as a problem to you.

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Kingsley Shacklebolt rapped hard against the wood of the Minister's bench, a signal for silence in the courtroom. Andromeda's hands tightened anxiously around the folds of the robes she was clutching in her lap. She'd debated with herself about attending the trial, but eventually decided she owed her sister this much. She'd told her husband she was meeting a friend for coffee: a poor lie, as lies went, but Ted never questioned much, he was far too trusting for that. Nymphadora was so busy Andromeda doubted if she'd notice much about her mother's movements. Andromeda hoped not, anyway. Ted's reaction she wasn't sure of, but Dora would definitely not be happy about what Andromeda was about to do.

"Narcissa Callidora Malfoy, you are hereby charged with aiding and abetting the illegal terrorist group known as the Death Eaters, acting as an accessory to murder, acting as an accessory to torture, assisting in imprisoning others within your home, sheltering known fugitives from the law, and lying to this court on the date of the 15th November 1981, for the purpose of protecting your husband, Lucius Malfoy, from justice. How do you plead?"

Narcissa had been watching Kingsley with cool detachment as he read the list of charges. "Guilty, but I claim mitigating circumstances," she said calmly, her face still and devoid of emotion.

Andromeda felt a churning in the pit of her stomach as she stared at her sister. Narcissa's hair was swept up neatly, her make-up perfect, her clothes smart yet understated. The weight of the charges did not seem to ruffle her at all, at least on the surface, but Andromeda knew better. The signs had not changed since childhood: the stiffening of her sister's shoulders, held even straighter than her usual haughty pose; the tightness in her jaw and the slight flicker of fear in her eyes. However, Andromeda knew that she was very likely the only person in the courtroom who could see her sister's terror.

Andromeda was slightly surprised by the plea, but on reflection she supposed it made sense. There was simply too much evidence, some of which was currently being read in the form of written statements from convicted Death Eaters in Azkaban. Andromeda tried not to listen, but it was impossible.

"Is it true that you offered your home to Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters to use as a base?"

It was the first true sign of anxiety: Narcissa jerked backwards at the name as though she'd been burned, but quickly composed herself.

"It is true that our home was used in such a way, but I would not say I offered it freely. I was very afraid for the safety of my husband and son… if we had refused, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would have killed us all. I am certain of that."

"Can you explain for the court why you believed your lives were in danger?"

Andromeda pulled her cloak around her shoulders as Narcissa recounted the next part of her tale, suddenly feeling cold to the core. That He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would use a seventeen year-old boy to punish his father… to punish a mistake, at that, not a betrayal.

"When Severus was the one to kill Albus Dumbledore, and not my son, the Dark Lord-" Narcissa cut off suddenly and swallowed, hard.

"Would you like to take a few moments to compose yourself, Mrs Malfoy?" Kingsley asked kindly.

Narcissa shook her head, even though a tear was leaking out of one blue eye to make a salty trail down her cheek. Shock jolted Andromeda's whole body: Narcissa _never_ cried in public.

"He- he-" Narcissa swallowed hard, and spoke the rest of the sentence in a rush. "He tortured my son for weeks."

Kingsley nodded. "The testimonies here support what you are saying: that the Malfoy family was in a very difficult position at this point in the war."

Andromeda wished Narcissa would look her way, so she could offer some sign of support, of forgiveness, but Narcissa's focus was on Kingsley and the jury. Andromeda stared at her sister as prosecution evidence continued to be presented, watching Narcissa respond and hoping to catch her eye.

Two hours later, Kingsley finally came to the end of his piles of parchment. "Mrs Malfoy, this is now your chance to present a defence to the evidence I have given the court. Two witnesses have already put their names down to speak for you. I'd like to call the first witness now: Mr Harry James Potter, please come to the centre of the courtroom."

There were whispers and mutters as the Boy-Who-Lived walked down the stairs, passing to Andromeda's right as he made his way down to the bottom of the courtroom, near to the chained chair where Narcissa sat. Why in Merlin's name was he testifying in her sister's defence?

"Erm," he began, opening up a piece of parchment noisily. "I'd firstly like to point out- well, to add to what's already been said, really- Voldemort was really angry at the Malfoys for most of this war, and their lives probably were in danger. Some of you know that I had an unusual connection to Voldemort's mind from the scar where he tried to kill me. I could see some of the things he was doing, and I saw him forcing Draco Malfoy to use the Cruciatus curse on others- it was clear he was terrified, it was clear he didn't want to do it… and before that, when I was in my sixth year at Hogwarts, I found him crying. He was talking to one of the ghosts, telling her 'I can't do it, and if I don't do it soon he says he'll kill me'. It's clear Voldemort was quite willing to kill Draco at this point, and that at least he felt in fear for his life. I was also on the Astronomy Tower the night Dumbledore died: he'd immobilized me under the Invisibility Cloak so I- I couldn't-"

Harry hesitated, and Andromeda was somewhat surprised to find she still had the ability left to feel empathy for this boy who had seen far too much in his short life.

"I understand, Mr Potter. I don't think anyone in this courtroom doubts that you would have intervened if you could," Kingsley said gently.

"Anyway, Draco disarmed Dumbledore, and he had his wand pointed at him, but he hesitated to kill him. Dumbledore tried to persuade him to come over to the right side, and Draco thought about it, but he didn't get chance to accept. While they were talking, though, I heard Draco say 'I've got to do it or he'll kill me and my entire family.' I realise none of what I've said so far involves Mrs Malfoy directly, but I think it further confirms that Mrs Malfoy was telling the truth when she said her life was in danger."

"Thank you, Mr Potter. Was there anything else?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. Mrs Malfoy saved my life."

At this point, the whispers grew so loud that Kingsley had to rap three or four times with his gavel to regain silence.

"Voldemort tried to kill me in the Forbidden Forest but he failed. We were both knocked unconscious: when he came round he ordered Mrs Malfoy to examine me to see if I was dead. When she realized I was alive, Mrs Malfoy whispered to me… asked me if I knew if her son was alive. When I said he was, she lied to Voldemort: she told him I was dead. If she hadn't done that he'd have tried to kill me again, and I know that the second time he'd have succeeded. I don't know what would have happened: someone else might still have defeated him, but it's certainly possible that we'd all be living under Voldemort's rule now. I think it's pretty clear from that action that Mrs Malfoy's loyalties did not lie with Voldemort in the Final Battle."

Andromeda's hands clutched at her robes so tightly that her nails dug into her thighs. Her sister had lied directly to the greatest Legilimens of their time and _lived?_ Andromeda would never have thought Narcissa would have the nerve to do something like that. Her shock was such that she didn't hear Kingsley thanking Harry, or her own name being called.

"Mrs Tonks- Mrs Tonks, are you alright?"

Andromeda's hands flew away from her robes, and she sat upright quickly, looking back at Kingsley. As she did so, she noted that Narcissa was staring at her, finally having realized she was there.

"Yes, thank you, Minister. I apologise: were you calling for my testimony?"

Kingsley nodded. "If you're ready."

Standing, Andromeda walked down the short flight of steps to the centre of the courtroom.

"Mrs Tonks, please can you tell the court why you put your name forward to testify in Mrs Malfoy's defence?"

Andromeda nodded. "I wanted the court to know about another life she saved. Her actions were more indirect than they were when she helped Mr Potter, but without them I doubt my husband would have survived."

More whispers, though they were much quieter than those that had followed Harry's testimony.

"As some of you are no doubt aware, and others may have guessed from the family resemblance, I am sister to both Mrs Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange."

The whispering sounded more malicious this time, and Kingsley tapped his gavel once again. "Silence, please."

"As many of you may also know, my husband is Muggle-born. My family disowned me because of our marriage, and Bellatrix threatened both of us, and Ted's Muggle family, on several occasions by Howler. When He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named took the Ministry last year, he called for Muggle-borns to present themselves for trial. Ted would never have gone on principle, and besides it was too dangerous, so he went on the run. He hoped that doing this would protect our daughter and myself, because of our so-called 'purer' blood. My husband was reported dead on the radio programme Potterwatch five months later." Andromeda forced back the tears that blurred her vision.

"After the Final Battle, Narcissa- Mrs Malfoy- approached me to tell me to look for my husband. She told me that he'd encountered Snatchers but had escaped, and the Snatchers in question had been too frightened to report their failure to my other sister, Bellatrix Lestrange. I think everyone in this courtroom can understand their fear: Bellatrix was insane, hot-tempered and would stop at nothing to serve He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. They asked Narcissa to report to her instead, but Narcissa suggested they tell Bellatrix that they had killed Ted, even though this wasn't true. I believe Narcissa expected that Bellatrix would go after Ted in person if she knew he was still alive, and that her actions were an attempt to give him a better chance of survival."

"If you doubt that Bellatrix would have been mad enough to kill her own brother-in-law, then consider this: I had to Stun Bellatrix in the Final Battle because she was torturing, and about to kill, my daughter."

Andromeda heard Narcissa gasp from behind her, but continued with her speech. If she stopped, she knew she'd be hard pressed to avoid breaking down in tears in front of the entire Wizengamot.

"You've already heard how precarious my sister's situation with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was. Had He found out about this deception, the consequences could have been fatal for Mrs Malfoy. But she did it anyway." Andromeda allowed herself, then, to turn to her sister and look her in the eyes. "Thank you."

"Please try not to speak to the defendant, Mrs Tonks. Is that everything?"

Andromeda nodded, and made her way back to her seat. Narcissa's speech in her own defence was very brief, and Kingsley was soon addressing the jury.

"You must now decide whether the mitigating circumstances Mrs Malfoy has described are enough to justify her actions, or whether she is truly guilty of committing these crimes and deserves punishment. All those in favour of conviction?"

Andromeda's eyes scanned desperately over the raised hands, counting. It looked close to half, so Andromeda wasn't certain for a few moments. Even when she thought she was, she held her sigh of relief in until she heard Kingsley speak.

"Mrs Malfoy, this court finds you not guilty of the charges that have been brought against you."

At the words 'not guilty', the chains binding Narcissa to the chair unraveled and slunk back into the arms. Andromeda sighed heavily, her shoulders finally dropping. She hadn't noticed how tense they were.

"You are free to go."


	12. Chapter 12

Ted was confused for a few moments when he woke up in the soft bed. In his dream, he'd been back on the run, sleeping on a muddy river bank, so the comfort and warmth was unexpected.

He cracked open his eyes to see Andromeda, wearing her smartest set of dark blue robes and carefully applying makeup.

"Morning, love. You going somewhere?"

She jumped slightly as she turned to him. "Yes. I'm meeting a friend for coffee this morning."

Ted surveyed her critically. That wasn't the outfit Andromeda would usually wear for coffee, it was too official. However, it was best not to question her. "Okay, sure. Have a good time. D'you want some breakfast before you go?"

Andromeda shook her head. "There isn't the time."

"Are you still coming in with Dora and me later to…" Ted trailed off, unable to say the words 'register Remus' death'.

"Of course," Andromeda said.

Her face was calm, but her voice was ever-so-slightly tense. Ted could tell by the tiny exaggeration of what he still called her fancy pureblood accent. He debated whether to say something, but he knew from all their years together that Andromeda would only reveal secrets when she felt ready.

"You look lovely, 'Dromeda," he said eventually, deciding not to press the issue.

A few hours later, Ted sat drinking his mid-morning cup of coffee and flicking through the Daily Prophet, while the bowls he had just been using to make a carrot cake, Andromeda's favourite, washed themselves in the background.

Ted finished reading an article entitled 'Minister bans Dementors from Azkaban', and muttered "about time, too," before turning the page. The headline he saw there made him jump so violently that he spattered coffee all over the page.

 _Malfoy family faces justice: Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy and their son Draco to be tried today._

There followed a long and rather scathing article on the many crimes of the Malfoy family over the years.

"Bloody hell!" Ted exclaimed to himself, jumping to his feet. "She could have told me, I'd have gone with her."

He hurried over to the oven to check the time left on the cake. Fifteen minutes still to go.

"Dora!"

The sound of hurried footsteps on the stairs was followed by a crashing sound, which Ted was pretty sure was her blundering into the coat stand at the bottom. A few seconds later, Dora pushed the kitchen door open.

"Are you alright, Dad?"

"I'm fine," he said, hastening to reassure her. "I just wondered if you'd maybe be able to take this cake out of the oven when it's done. I just- I need to go help a friend with something."

Dora looked at him in puzzlement. "Oookay," she said. "You're not the best liar, you know."

"Actually, I'm having a passionate affair with Dolores Umbridge. Don't tell your mother. I'll be back in time to go to the Ministry with you."

Dora smiled slightly. "OK, I get it, you don't want to tell me."

"What makes you think that wasn't the complete truth?"

"Apart from the fact Umbridge is in Azkaban?"

"Oh yes, that's right. Anyway, can you do the cake or not?"

A few minutes later, Ted was busily spinning the dial in the dilapidated telephone box that had been newly restored as the Ministry's visitor entrance. He'd had to wait in a slight queue. They really needed a better system than this, in light of the number of people that had business at the Ministry these days, what with the need to register so many deaths, people wanting to attend trials and Muggle-borns trying to reclaim the wands that had been taken from them.

Arriving in the Atrium, Ted approached the security guard at the desk. With a broad smile, the man clapped him hard on the back.

"Ted! It's great to see you, mate!"

"You too, Dave," Ted replied. "How's your son doing?"

"Looking to get his job back. He lost it because he refused to take money out of Muggle-borns' accounts to redistribute to You-Know-Who's cronies. I was terrified when I found out, it could have been a lot worse than being fired. We managed, though. They're working to get the money back, if you lost any."

Ted shook his head. "I don't think so. I moved a chunk into my Muggle bank account before You-Know-Who took over, and then I just put the rest into Andromeda's."

Dave laughed, but his face quickly turned more serious. "I was so sorry to hear about Dora's husband. Remus, right?"

Ted nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, it's really tough for her right now, but that's true for so many people. Bloody stupid war."

"Well, at least we got you back in the end, mate. Do you have a wand right now?"

Ted nodded. "Ran away before they could tell me I stole it. Here."

Dave weighed his wand on the special set of scales, and pinned the information on it to a spike on the desk. "What's the purpose of your visit?"

"Er," Ted hesitated. "I suppose I have to tell you, right?"

"Given that you told the entrance 'I'd rather keep it to myself, thanks', then yes," Dave said, gesturing to Ted's visitor badge. "And we really need to update the spells on that thing so you can't do that."

"Then you might be out of a job, though, mate. Fine. I'm here to… well, I'm mainly here to find my wife and check she's OK. I've got a sneaking suspicion I might find her down at the courtrooms today."

"I'll just put 'attend a trial' then, shall I?" Dave passed Ted a new badge. "Good luck, mate. Give my best to Andromeda and Dora."

"Will do," Ted said, already beginning to walk away.

Ted had only got half-way to the lifts when another man called his name. "Ted Tonks! I- I thought you were-"

Ted turned to see a regular customer of his. "Hey, Martin. Actually my death report was wrong… I'm sorry if I scared you."

"No, no, not at all! How's your wife? And your daughter?"

Bugger. Now he'd have to ask Martin something in return, and he'd be delayed even longer. "They're OK… well, my daughter lost her husband in the war, so she's not doing brilliantly, but she's OK. Oh, and I'm a grandad now." Ted grinned proudly. "How are you doing?"

"Never been better. Glad this war's finally over. So, a grandad, huh? Boy or girl?"

"Boy. Called Teddy. Four months old," Ted said in a rush. "I'm sorry, Martin, I'm in a bit of a hurry today. Can we catch up properly soon?"

"Sure, no problem."

Ted scrambled as quickly as he could towards the lifts, but didn't manage to avoid having three other versions of the same conversation before he finally got there. The floors seemed to pass interminably slowly, even though Ted was engaged in conversation most of the time with an old friend from school. Eventually, he reached the floor he was looking for and hurried along towards the courtroom.

Practically at a run, he approached the door just as it opened. He tried to slow down on the slippery floor, but still managed to bump against the other person hard enough to throw them off balance.

"God, I'm so sorry, I-" Ted turned to look at the person he'd bumped into, and stopped speaking abruptly.

Narcissa Malfoy reached up to elegantly rearrange a small strand of hair that had fallen out of place when she'd been knocked to the side, then looked at him with an arched eyebrow. "Good morning, Mr Tonks."

Ted was speechless for a few seconds, surprised she'd acknowledged his presence at all, let alone spoken to him. "Er, hello." He glanced around her, realising he couldn't see any Aurors or guards. "Er- are you- did they-" His eyes looked across to the courtroom door briefly.

"I was not convicted, if that is what you are asking."

Ted let out the breath he hadn't even realised he'd been holding. "Thank goodness."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed slightly. "I must admit I'm surprised you care."

"You kidding? 'Dromeda'd have been devastated if…"

Narcissa's icy composure flickered for a moment, but she quickly raised her chin to an even haughtier angle. "I should move. I daresay the rest of the court will be coming out soon, and I have no wish to be in their path when they do."

"Sure, right, yes. Er, well, see you."

"Good morning," she responded, and curtsied to him.

Ted stared at her retreating back in shock, until he was jolted out of his stupor by the sound of many feet coming from inside the courtroom. He moved away from the door just in time, as a large group of people began to flow out.

Andromeda was near the front of the group, her head turning in either direction to look down the hall. When she met Ted's eyes, her face looked remarkably like Dora's on the many occasions Ted had caught Dora sneaking extra biscuits from the jar.

"Hey, love," he said, smiling at her as she approached.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lied to you," she said immediately, continuing to glance around.

"Your sister went that way." Ted gestured to a corridor that turned off to the left. "And it's fine, 'Dromeda, it's just… I want to support you. I can't do that if you shut me out."

Andromeda nodded, avoiding his eyes. "I- I wasn't sure how you'd feel about it."

"I feel like I want you to be happy. But let's talk about it when we get home, eh? You want to find Mrs Malfoy, right?"

Andromeda shook her head. "No… well, maybe… yes… I don't know."

"Really? You sound very certain."

"Don't joke, Ted." 'Dromeda's voice sounded strained, as though she was close to tears.

"'Dromeda," he murmured, reaching to take her hand.

"I just... it's her son's trial in half an hour, but she… she ignored me for so long, and she took Bella in and supported the Dark Lord in the first war, in spirit even if she didn't actually do anything… and I- I don't want to appear weak, like I've just been waiting for her to waltz back into my life." Her eyes were cast down at the floor and moving restlessly, and her voice sounded strained.

"I don't think helping someone is automatically taken as agreeing with everything they do," Ted pointed out. "But I get why you might not want anything to do with her."

Andromeda's eyes flickered over to the turning Ted had pointed out. "If they convict her son…"

"Whatever happens, I'm sure you being there'd help her."

"But what about Dora?"

"I'll go with Dora. She doesn't need both of us."

"Yes, she does. I only intended to come to Narcissa's trial, but I- I can't just leave her here alone-"

"I see what you mean, love."

"But I can't not go with Dora."

"You've still got time," Ted pointed out. "You could tell Narcissa about Dora's appointment. At least then she'd know you wanted to be with her. I'm sure she'd understand."

Andromeda nodded slowly, her face becoming firmer, more resolved. "Maybe."

"Go on," Ted said, pushing lightly on her shoulder. "Go and find her."


	13. Chapter 13

It was a bright day, the sky a sparkling turquoise as Dora fastened a black witch's hat to her limp, mousy-brown hair. Her movements were hampered by the fact that she was trying hard not to look in the mirror; even her own appearance distressed her. Utterly devoid of her usual colour, Dora's plain black robes and hat washed out her skin, made her look dull, conventional.

"Oh, not now, Teddy," Dora muttered under her breath as she heard her baby begin to whine for the third time that hour. He was unsettled today, restless, almost as though he knew what today was. That was impossible, Dora knew: he was more likely to be picking up on her sour mood. With this in her mind, Dora plastered on a fake smile as she picked him up.

"Are you ready, Nymphadora?"

Her mother's face was tired, anxious, when she appeared a few minutes later in the doorway.

Dora shook her head. "I don't think I'll ever be ready."

Andromeda crossed the room to her, wrapping an arm around her daughter's shoulders. "I know. Nevertheless, if we don't leave now we will be late."

The approach to the church in Hogsmeade was crowded with people, but Dora had been expecting that. What was far more surprising was the line of three Muggle cars parked along the street of what was usually an all-magical, Unplottable village. Muggle cars that Dora recognized.

"What in Merlin's name are they doing here, Mum?! They're not allowed here!"

Andromeda smiled. "I spoke to Harry Potter, who pulled a few strings with Kingsley, and they both had some words with the Muggle Liaison Office."

"Wait a sec," Ted protested. "Why wasn't I told about this?"

Andromeda arched an eyebrow in his direction. "Because you would have made a fuss about my calling in favours, and bored us all half-to-tears with a speech about everyone needing to be treated the same. And then you would have eventually grudgingly admitted how pleased about it you were."

"You're such a Slytherin, Mum," Dora muttered, in a poor approximation of her usual light-hearted banter with her parents. "Talking of, you are absolutely sure _she_ isn't going to show up, aren't you?"

"I've no idea who you mean by that, Dora, but I wouldn't call her _she,"_ Ted said jokingly, though he looked a little nervous. "Bad things might happen to you."

"No, Nymphadora, she won't come."

Dora wanted to ask how her mother could be so sure, but she was interrupted as they reached the group of people standing around the cars: her grandmother, her aunties, uncles and cousins. Every single member of the Tonks clan had made the journey to be here, long though it was, and Dora felt gratitude well within her.

"Nana! Auntie Lizzie!" Dora began to embrace them all, one by one. "I'm so glad you're here. Thank you, thank you so much…"

"You don't need to thank us, Dora," her Auntie Kath said gently. "We all wanted to be here. We might not have met Remus, but we do mourn the fact we never got a chance to."

Dora nodded and swallowed, her eyes filling up with tears. She felt her Dad put his arm around her shoulders and give them a tight squeeze.

"We had better go inside," her mother said quietly. "Everyone will be waiting."

The church was crowded, though less busy than it had been for Fred Weasley's funeral the day before. Dora noticed little more than this, however, her eyes so full of tears as she walked sobbing behind Remus' coffin that she could barely see three feet in front of her, let alone identify any of the faces in the crowd.

The service passed in a similar blur, much though Dora wanted to pay attention. Standing, singing, sitting, listening, praying… it was too much to force herself to do when all she wanted was to sit and cry for hours, but she pushed herself through it anyway, making half-hearted attempts to comfort Teddy, who was restless.

The only part she fully listened to was the eulogy. Despite everything that had happened to him, Harry Potter had volunteered to speak. He was one of the people who knew Remus best, and Dora was extremely grateful that he'd taken the time to prepare a speech, despite the number of funerals she knew he was attending and the amount of evidence he was giving to the Wizengamot's trials.

Harry, seemingly, also could not stop himself from weeping as he stood at the front of the church.

"We're… we're all here today to pay tribute to a great, and incredibly brave, man. Professor Lupin was no stranger to fighting: not only was he a key member of the Order of the Phoenix in both the recent wars, he'd spent his entire life fighting to do well at school, make friends, and get work, things most of us take for granted."

This sounded like Hermione had had a hand in writing it more than once, but Dora didn't mind. It was absolutely true, and she was glad Harry was acknowledging it.

"Why did Professor Lupin find these ordinary things so difficult? He had the bad luck to be bitten by a werewolf as a child, in a petty act of revenge. This was made worse by the way other people treated him because of it. He was excluded and feared by anyone who knew his condition, even though he was one of the kindest, gentlest men I've ever known. Despite this, he never stopped trying hard to be the best he could be, which was pretty incredible, and he never stopped fighting for what was right. I think we can all learn a lot of lessons from him."

Harry paused, wiping his eyes and pushing his glasses back up his nose. He ran a hand nervously across his messy hair, utterly failing to make it tidier. Dora was wiping her eyes constantly, trying to stifle the sound of her sobs. Harry's speech needed to be heard.

"Not only was Professor Lupin a brave and talented fighter, he was also a brilliant and patient teacher, and he would always spend his own time helping those who needed it. When I was struggling with Dementors in my third year, he successfully taught me how to produce a Patronus Charm, something I don't think I could have survived without over the last year. The difficulty of this charm shows just how wonderful a teacher he was. But most importantly, Remus was a man capable of deep, strong love and friendship, something that will be remembered by his wife, Dora, and their baby boy, Teddy. Earlier in life, he was a brilliant friend to my father and my godfather, Sirius Black. To me, he was like a father. He was someone to turn to many times, and always gave the best advice. Professor Lupin, we'll all miss you. I'm not sure if I can do what I want to do now when I feel like this-" Harry hesitated and swallowed "but I was taught by the best."

Harry picked up his wand, pointing it down the middle of the aisle, and shut his eyes, breathing heavily a few times. What was he doing? Was he really going to…

Dora's thoughts were interrupted by Harry's shout of _"Expecto Patronum!"_ and the sight of the silver stag bursting forth from his wand and cantering away down the aisle.

"Thank you, Professor Lupin, and goodbye," Harry whispered emotionally, tears streaming down his cheeks.

* * *

 **A/N:** So this jumped forward a little, but we will go back to looking at the relationship between Narcissa and Andromeda, so don't worry those fans that wanted that.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the looong wait for this chapter. The chapter itself is fairly long though, so hopefully that makes up for it!

* * *

A few days later, Ted woke up yet again to the sight of his wife dressing formally when he wasn't expecting it. This time, however, she was wearing black and looking utterly blank. Ted sat up wearily and rubbed sleep from his eyes. She wasn't going to get away with an excuse this time.

"'Dromeda, where are you going?"

"Just to the Ministry. I'm hoping to get my job back."

"And you thought all-black was a good interview outfit?" Ted raised an eyebrow at her. "As opposed to, say… your work robes?"

Andromeda glared at him. "I didn't realise it was your business what I choose to wear," she snapped.

Well, wherever she was going it obviously wasn't good.

"I feel it's kind of my business if you're not telling me the truth, 'Dromeda. I only want to be there for you."

Andromeda put her best black hat on particularly forcefully. "What makes you think I'm not telling the truth?"

"You look like you're going to a funeral," Ted said softly.

"Well, maybe I am!" she said, the snap and hauteur still in her voice.

"Whose?" Ted asked. A second later, he realised, and stared at her in horror at his own words, suddenly understanding the extra pain they must have placed on his wife. "God, of course, I know whose." He looked at her, feeling utterly lost about how best to help her. "Oh, 'Dromeda, darling, I'm sorry."

"Are you? She'd have murdered you without a second thought."

Ted sighed, getting up from the bed and moving towards her. "Can I give you a hug?"

Andromeda shook her head. "No. You'll make me cry."

"Sorry, I didn't know my hugs were that bad." The joke got no response, not that Ted was really expecting one. "Look, can I- I know it isn't really what Bellatrix would have wanted… well, it isn't at all what Bellatrix would have wanted… but would it help if I came with you?"

Andromeda, who was picking up a bracelet, froze mid-motion. "What?!"

Ted felt like an idiot. "Never mind, it was a stupid idea, just… forget I said anything... I'm sorry, I-"

"You'd really do that?" she interrupted, turning towards him with hope in her eyes. "You do realise you'll have to put up with the Malfoys?"

"I'd put up with Voldemort himself if you needed me to," Ted murmured.

Andromeda stared at him, her beautiful eyes wide and ever-so-slightly damp. "Ted... are you sure?"

"Completely. Unless you don't want me to. I know it would make things awkward with Narcissa, but I just… I don't like the idea of you going all alone. But I would totally understand if you don't… I mean, it was a stupid thing to-"

"Ted, darling, do you ever shut up?" Andromeda was almost smiling now, though the expression didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yes. Yes, that would be… I'd like that."

He looked at her for a second, frozen, then suddenly leapt out of bed. "Right. OK. Right. What do I wear?"

Andromeda answered his question by waving her wand so that a suitable outfit sailed out of his wardrobe and landed on the bed. "You haven't got long. Dress quickly."

"Right you are, 'Dromeda," Ted replied, beginning to pull off his pajamas.

Fifteen minutes later, they Apparated outside ancient iron gates, which were rusted in places, deep green ivy creeping up the outside of the stone supports. Andromeda touched her wand to the gate, which made a horrific screeching noise as the iron reformed itself into a serpent's head.

"Your name and purpose," it hissed flatly.

"Andromeda and Ted Tonks. We're here for a funeral. We are expected." Andromeda said, her voice calm.

Ted, in contrast, felt like running as fast as he could in the other direction, a feeling that only intensified as the snake reared up slightly.

"Enter," it responded, the gates swinging open.

Ted shook his head slightly as they proceeded up an overgrown drive, dark, spider-webbed hedges lining either side, behind which were dense thickets of coniferous trees. "You know, a doorbell would be less scary. Where are we?"

Andromeda smiled at him slightly. "My childhood home. This is Black Manor."

"Bloody hell," Ted muttered. "Didn't that snake thing scare you when you were little?"

"It's only for visitors. As a child I just walked straight through the iron. I wondered whether I might not still be able to… but it's sealed me out."

Ted swallowed, reaching to put a hand on her arm. "I'm sorry."

"You should be. Look at all the sweetness and light I'm missing out on," she joked, gesturing around her at the dark, forbidding vegetation. "I don't miss it, Ted."

They rounded the corner of the long drive and a jet-black, crumbling house appeared in front of them. It was smaller than Ted was expecting, and the gravel turning circle in front of it was overgrown. Altogether it gave the air of having been abandoned for far longer than the last ten years or so, since Andromeda's parents had died. Ted's eyes fell on an old swing hanging from a gnarled oak, one of the few deciduous trees he'd seen. He noticed Andromeda glance at it too, before looking quickly away.

Two blonde figures were standing at the foot of the steps. They were almost identical except for the longer hair of one and the more anxious, less haughty demeanor of the other. As Ted and Andromeda stepped onto the gravel, the taller figure looked around, his face immediately falling into an expression of outraged shock.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing, Andromeda?!" He snarled, as soon as they were close enough to hear him speak.

The young man at his side jumped at the loud tone, glancing around at them and then away again. He twisted his hands together anxiously, looking up at his father.

"Cissy didn't tell you I was going to be here?" Andromeda said, her tone haughty and polished. "Such a shame that your wife doesn't trust you, Lucius."

Lucius narrowed his eyes and lifted his chin to an even more arrogant angle, if that were possible. "Narcissa did inform me about you, not that my marriage is any of your business. She did not tell me you were bringing your Mudblood, however. I can only assume she did not know."

Oh bugger. Ted looked across at Andromeda, recognizing the tell-tale signs of her temper coming slowly to the boil. She too raised her chin higher and stepped close to Lucius, glaring at him.

"How _dare_ you," she spat dangerously, raising her wand. Ted grabbed her wrist quickly.

"It's OK, 'Dromeda, it doesn't matter."

She pulled herself free, pointing her wand at Lucius' throat. "Yes, it does. I will not have him insult you in that way."

"I'm fine, 'Dromeda. It's fine." Ted turned to smile at the boy. "Hello, Draco. It's nice to meet you. Sorry about this," he added, gesturing towards Andromeda and Lucius, who were still nose-to-nose, glaring at each other. Ted had to admire Lucius' nerve: if Andromeda had been pointing a wand at _his_ throat, he wouldn't still be making eye contact.

"'Dromeda, please don't hex him. I really don't want you to go to Azkaban."

"Apologise to my husband," she snarled at Lucius.

"How dare you bring him here?" Lucius countered angrily, despite the fact that he didn't appear to have a wand. "How dare you make this even worse for Narcissa?"

"Oh, so _Narcissa_ can have her husband to comfort and support her, but I can't?" Andromeda snapped. "Are you seriously pretending this is all for her benefit?"

"Get that filth away from here, Andromeda."

Suddenly, Andromeda ripped her wand away from Lucius' throat and directed it at a crumbling stone vase on the edge of the steps, exploding it into thousands of tiny smithereens with a bang. "Say that again, Malfoy, and I swear I'll Cruciate you until you wish you'd never been born."

"Andromeda!" Ted exclaimed. "That's illegal, and it's wrong to say that, especially in front of-" he broke off, glancing at Draco.

Andromeda turned to glare at him instead. "Are you going to just let him get away with speaking to you like that?"

"I really don't mind, love," Ted said, trying to calm her. Trying but failing, judging by the expression on her face as she once again pushed her wand against Lucius' throat.

There was a slight squeak, and Ted turned to see the green door at the top of the steps open, the rusted hinges squealing in protest.

"What is this?" Narcissa said, surveying the broken pieces of vase all over the steps. Her usually pale face was made still paler by the dark outfit she wore, and her voice sounded flat, even to Ted.

" _This_ is your filthy husband daring to-"

"Hey, hey," Ted said gently. "I thought the whole issue here was trying to stop people calling other people's husbands names."

Narcissa's eyes fell onto him, her eyebrows raising slightly. "Oh," she said softly. "Good morning, Mr Tonks. I must confess I'm surprised to see you."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I had a stupid idea that Andromeda took me up on for some reason. I can go if-"

"I want you here," Andromeda said suddenly.

Ted glanced at her. "OK, love," he said quietly, before looking back to Narcissa. "So, er, scrap that last part."

"I was not asking you to leave," Narcissa said, beginning to make her way cautiously down the steps, avoiding the pieces of broken vase. "Although if Andromeda continues to threaten my husband she may have to."

"You can tell your husband to apologise, then, or I mean it, I'll-"

"Apologise for what?" Narcissa asked. She reached Lucius' side and subtly weaved her fingers into his.

"He called my husband a- a- You-Know-What!" Andromeda spat furiously.

"Lucius." Narcissa's disapproving tone made her husband shift nervously.

"Narcissa…"

"Lucius," she repeated more firmly, tilting her head slightly in Andromeda's direction.

There was silence for a few seconds, then: "My apologies," Lucius muttered reluctantly.

"I don't think it's me you need to apologise to," Andromeda said dangerously.

"Really, love? You do seem to be the most offended. I don't care, honestly… why don't we just start again and pretend it never happened?" Ted turned to Lucius. "Hello, Mr Malfoy, I'm Ted. Nice to meet you."

Lucius made a strangled sound that might have been an attempt at 'good morning'. Ted then turned to Draco, determined not to give 'Dromeda any space to complain about the other man's tone. Draco's response was smoother than his father's, warmer even, something that gave Ted hope.

Ted turned back to Andromeda, who was smirking at Lucius.

"So it's true, then, Cissy does have you wrapped around her little finger."

"Don't be childish, Andromeda," Narcissa said, almost absent-mindedly. "The funeral director should be here soon. I- I put her in her old room, if you want to go in and see her before he comes."

Andromeda blinked hard, as though a hand had moved to slap her. "No, I don't."

"Are you sure, Andy? I could come with you, or your husband could, of course."

Andromeda gave a hollow laugh. "Well, that would certainly be a good test of whether she was definitely dead. No, I don't want to see her."

There was an awkward silence.

"I'm really sorry for your loss," Ted told Narcissa belatedly. "I'm sorry, I should have said that earlier."

"No matter. I can understand you were distracted," Narcissa said. "And I'm sorry for yours. Your son-in-law."

"Thanks," Ted said. "That's kind of you. And thanks for sending those flowers to Dora."

Narcissa raised an eyebrow. "Really? I heard they weren't well-received."

Ted hesitated awkwardly. "Erm, well… Dora wasn't exactly in the best of tempers at the time…"

There was another awkward silence. Ted searched desperately in his mind for something to say, but came up short. He could only hope the funeral director would arrive soon, and they could get this over with. 'God forgive me, that sounds awful,' he thought, as soon as that idea entered his head.

Thankfully, it wasn't too much longer before Alliteraus Fawley, the short, dark-haired wizard who seemed to officiate every wedding and funeral, appeared around the bend in the driveway. He bowed to them as he reached them.

"Mr and Mrs Malfoy, Master Malfoy, Mrs Tonks… oh, and Mr Tonks," he said as he swept off his hat and bent his waist. "Such a sad occasion." His voice was flat, betraying no emotion, but at least he had managed not to sound sarcastic.

"Indeed," Narcissa said quietly, sounding much more genuine. "My sister's body is inside, if you'd care to follow me."

"Wait!"

Ted felt 'Dromeda stir beside him, stepping forward.

"Actually… I'd like to see her first. If it isn't too late."

"What a dramatic sense of timing," Lucius muttered. "You've just had ample opportunity to do so, but you wait until you can cause maximum inconvenience to everyone else. How very like your elder sister you are."

Ted felt anger suddenly well within him, and held himself back from reaching for his wand. "Shut it, Malfoy," he said threateningly.

Lucius straightened his posture, his expression incredulous. "You dare-"

"No," Narcissa snapped suddenly. "We are _not_ descending into petty insults yet again."

Lucius fell silent instantly, and Ted turned to his wife. "Do you want me to come with you, love?"

Andromeda shook her head. "I'll go alone. But thank you."

Ted watched her retreating back as she walked slowly up the crumbling steps, crunching the broken shards of stone beneath her feet, and disappeared through the door in a screech of rusting hinges. He stared at the door for a few moments, imagining her climbing the lonely stairs inside to look on her sister's face one last time. He wished he could do something, anything, to make this all go away for her.

"My apologies, Mr Fawley. With the exception of my dear wife, the Blacks have always had a taste for the dramatic."

Ted whirled round suddenly. "She's not being bloody dramatic!" He paused, fighting to control his temper. "Excuse my language, Mrs Malfoy."

Narcissa waved a hand dismissively. "I've heard worse."

Ted fixed Lucius with his best glare. It wasn't a very good glare, but its effectiveness came from how rarely he used it. When her mother glared, Dora took relatively little notice, but she knew if her Dad was angry too she was in real trouble.

"Do you have any idea… have you even bothered to take the time to think about how difficult this is for her? Can you not be bothered to wait five sodding minutes… sorry, Mrs Malfoy…"

"Don't apologise. I agree."

Lucius, who had been smirking lazily back at Ted, froze. "Narcissa?" Ted had to bite back a laugh at the expression on Lucius' face: he looked like a rabbit surprised by car headlights. Well, an unusually arrogant rabbit.

Narcissa ignored her husband, turning instead to Mr Fawley and beginning to discuss the plans for the funeral. It was almost entertaining to watch the funeral director, who was trying unsuccessfully to pretend he hadn't heard anything that had passed between the three of them. Entertaining as it was, however, it left Ted with a choice of Lucius or Draco to talk to.

"Er, so," he began awkwardly. "Are you finished with Hogwarts now, Draco?"

The boy looked nervously at him. "I'm not sure," he mumbled eventually, meeting Ted's eyes only in snatches, looking at him then looking away. "I've just completed my seventh year, but no-one got the chance to take NEWTs, so they might allow us to return next year."

"Fair enough," Ted said. "They'll be busy, then. What subjects do you take?"

"Potions, Arithmancy, Transfiguration and Charms."

Ted nodded approvingly. "Potions, great choice. I'm a potioneer myself, did you know?"

The boy shook his head. "No."

"I run a shop, in a little street off Diagon Alley. I love it, it's so rewarding to brew Potions, especially the trickier ones. When you've been waiting for months and then they're finally finished, it's a great feeling."

"It is, isn't it," Narcissa said softly.

Ted turned to her. "You like making potions?"

She nodded. "Yes. I always preferred it to spell work, somehow. Though I did enjoy Charms."

"I was terrible at Charms," Ted admitted. "Still don't know how I scraped an E at OWL."

"An E is hardly a terrible mark," Narcissa pointed out. "You must have been better than you thought."

Ted shrugged. "Got lucky, I guess."

Narcissa suddenly smiled wistfully, almost bitterly. "Potions was the only subject she didn't get an O on. She didn't have the patience for it."

Ted saw Lucius hesitantly move closer to his wife and touch her waist. "She was a brilliant witch, Narcissa."

Narcissa smiled slightly, subtly leaning in to her husband's touch. "You hated her, Lucius."

"We didn't entirely see eye-to-eye, but hated is a little strong. She was still a brilliant witch."

Ted began to search for something, anything, positive he could say about Bellatrix, but he was saved by the screeching sound of the hinges as the door opened. Andromeda emerged, her walk slow and uncertain. Ted turned immediately, hurrying up the steps towards her. Unfortunately, he slipped on one of the broken shards of stone halfway up the steps and slid to the ground with an 'oomph'.

"Ted!" Andromeda exclaimed. "Are you alright?"

He heard her hurrying down the steps towards him, and pushed himself to his feet quickly. "Fine," he muttered, a little embarrassed. He patted his stomach. "Still got plenty of padding."

He felt Andromeda weave her arm into his, squeezing tightly. Up close, he could see her eyes were red-rimmed.

"Are you OK, love?" he asked quietly, realising as he did so that it was a stupid thing to ask. Of course she wasn't OK, but he didn't know what other words to use.

She nodded. "Yes. Thank you."

They descended the steps towards Narcissa, Lucius and Draco arm-in-arm. Ted could feel Andromeda's slight trembling, though he couldn't see it.

"Are you ready, Andy?" Narcissa asked softly as they reached the foot of the steps.

Andromeda nodded, and Narcissa signaled to Alliteraus to follow her inside, her husband and son following.

"Do you want to go in?"

Andromeda shook her head slowly, exhaling with a sigh. "No. Let's wait here. I need a few minutes away from the Malfoys."

Ted wrapped an arm around her, pulling her to lean against his chest. "I'm so sorry, love."

He felt her burying her head against his shoulder, and the slight trembling in her frame, but he was pretty sure she wasn't crying. He rubbed her back soothingly anyway, not sure what to say to make things easier.

A few minutes later, Andromeda leapt away from him and hastily brushed a lock of hair back into place when the door squeaked again. Bellatrix's coffin was a dark mahogany, with heavily gilded silver handles. Not that the handles were being used, as the coffin was being levitated carefully through the dusty doorway by Mr Fawley. Ted noticed an ornate silver crest adorning the lid, but had no time to look at other details as he felt Andromeda's hand suddenly crush his in a vice-like grip. He squeezed back as best he could: her grip seemed to be stopping the blood flow to his fingers.

As Alliteraus descended the final few steps, Ted saw Narcissa, Lucius and Draco emerge from the doorway, walking with their heads bowed. Ted and Andromeda fell into a slow walk behind them as they moved around the corner of the house and towards the dense woodland. There was a narrow path between the trees, the fingers of the branches brushing the sides of the coffin as they passed. It was a lot darker in here than it had been next to the house, even when they had only gone a few feet down the path, and it got gloomier still as they continued, climbing up a slight incline, dead pine needles pressed beneath their feet.

After a few minutes, they emerged into a clearing, the trees pressing densely on all sides against a tall marble wall that the path skirted around. The path led them to a set of ornate iron gates, both bearing a crest worked in the iron of the same design as that on the coffin. The gates swung open at a wave of Narcissa's hand, and they entered the Black family graveyard.

Tall marble tombs were laid out in a neat grid, moss and lichens obscuring the stone and grasses invading their sides. Each had a face carved at one end, which shifted as they passed, the marble eyes following the progress of the coffin and mourners. Ted had never seen anything so macabre in his life, and shuddered a little, focusing his eyes on the back of Narcissa's head to avoid looking at anything else.

"It's alright," Andromeda said softly to him. "It's just a simple charm: they don't really see us."

Eventually, they reached the end of the row, where earth had been dug from the ground and piled to one side. Andromeda pressed herself tightly against Ted's side as Alliteraus allowed the coffin to float gently down into the grave. Ted wrapped an arm around Andromeda, holding her close, and saw Lucius take Narcissa's hand.

Once he had lowered the coffin into the grave, Alliteraus turned to face them. "We are gathered here to commemorate Bellatrix Elladora Lestrange, formerly Bellatrix Elladora Black." His voice was flat and toneless, as though he was reading, though neither paper nor parchment was visible. Ted supposed he'd memorized these words. "Madam Lestrange was an extremely proficient witch. At school, she gained an Outstanding grade in every single NEWT, and she made much use of these powers in later life, continuing to study magic." Alliteraus said the second part of that sentence very quickly, as though he did not want to dwell on exactly what or how she had continued to study. "She came from the purest of bloodlines," he continued, looking determinedly away from Ted, "and showed incredible passion and loyalty to the causes she believed in. She was a loving daughter, wife and sister-"

Andromeda gave a derisive snort at that. Ted glanced nervously at her, wondering if she'd protest more strongly, but fortunately she seemed determined to remain silent.

"sister," Alliteraus repeated, looking nervous, "and will be much missed by her surviving family. We now commend her body to the ground, to lie beside her ancestors, a long and unbroken line of great witches and wizards. I invite you to join me in a few moments of silent reflection on her life." Alliteraus sounded relieved that he had come to the end of his speech: despite his careful, flat tone, Ted could sense him speeding up during the last few sentences.

There was silence for a few minutes. Ted could feel Andromeda's hand trembling in his, but when he glanced sideways at her, her face was dry and unreadable. Narcissa, too, shed no tears, though her expression was much more mournful. Despite himself, Ted couldn't help but feel sorry for her, and for Bellatrix, too. You could almost taste the falsity of the atmosphere in the air: it was obvious Mr Fawley had chosen his words carefully, so they sounded positive while still being just about true, but he'd failed to entirely mask his reluctance while saying them.

Alliteraus cleared his throat lightly. "Madam Malfoy, perhaps you'd like to cast the Entombing charm?"

Narcissa raised her head slowly. Ted could see a slight trembling in her frame, even from a few metres away, as she nodded. "Of course, unless…" she glanced sideways at Andromeda.

Andromeda let out a harsh, jarring bark of laughter. "I'm a filthy whore of a blood traitor who mates with pigs, remember?" she said suddenly. "I'm one of the last people Bella would want to do that."

Oh no. Ted could tell from the set of his wife's jaw and the hardness in her tone that this could turn ugly very quickly.

Luckily, Narcissa's only response was to nod. "If you're sure," she said, her voice cracking slightly as she raised her wand. "Infodio," she whispered.

Blindingly bright spirals of light immediately sprang up around the grave, weaving together in an elegant dance, as though they were growing up from the ground. They grew rapidly, at first straight into the air, then across above the hole in the ground, sealing together into a cube. When the light faded, an ornate marble tomb was left in its place, the fresh rock gleaming in comparison to the older, lichen-encrusted stones around them. Ted was very relieved to see, however, that no face appeared at the end of this tomb. Either Narcissa had dispensed with that particular tradition, or those didn't appear until later. Ted didn't feel like hanging around to see which was true, so he was very glad when Narcissa tentatively suggested they return to the house. She seemed very agitated, twisting her hands together in front of her and biting her lower lip a little. Ted expected that, of course, but what did surprise him was that she was yet to shed a tear, unless she had been very subtle about doing so.

"I'm sorry," he said to her as they turned to leave.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was smooth and even, but there had been a slight hesitation before she'd spoken. "Though I believe you already expressed your condolences."

"Oh, no, sorry, I didn't mean for that," Ted said in a rush. "Well… I mean, obviously for that as well, but... I feel like I'm getting in the way of your grieving. I'm really sorry if that's the case."

Lucius gave a disparaging snort. He was walking arm-in-arm with his wife, his features haughty and unreadable. "You had plenty of opportunity to leave, Tonks. Or simply not to come."

Andromeda's hand twitched within his. "Shut it, Malfoy."

Narcissa sighed. "He came to support Andromeda, Lucius. You would do the same for me, were the situation reversed, would you not? And Andy-"

"If you're about to ask me to be polite, Narcissa, then don't. I hate your husband."

"'Dromeda!" Ted protested, beginning to look forward intensely to the moment they were outside the wards and could Apparate home. If Lucius and Andromeda made it that far without hexing each other.

Lucius smirked. "I daresay the feeling is mutual, isn't it, Narcissa?"

"You don't want me to answer that question, Lucius," Narcissa murmured quietly. "Please, Lucius… please, Andy..."

Andromeda gave a curt nod. "Fine."

A few minutes later, they emerged onto the driveway, the gravel crunching beneath their feet as they walked. Andromeda had finally let go of her husband's hand, allowing Ted to wrap his arm snugly around her shoulders, rubbing the top of her arm as they walked. He hoped it provided some tiny scrap of comfort against all the thoughts that must be assailing her.

As they neared the house, the five of them paused, the Malfoys turning to face Andromeda and Ted.

"I feel there should be something else," Narcissa said quietly. "Hot cocoa, sandwiches, a gathering of people… it feels like an insult to her memory to just leave her there."

"If that's your way of inviting us over for hot chocolate, Narcissa, then no. This was quite enough," Andromeda stated definitely, beginning to turn away to walk down the path. "Good afternoon. Come on, Ted."

Narcissa started to stretch her arm forward, as though to touch Andromeda, but quickly seemed to think better of it, withdrawing it as though she'd touched a hot pan.

"Enough of remembering Bella, or enough of me?" Narcissa asked, so quietly that Ted had to strain to hear her.

Andromeda froze, but did not turn back towards her sister

"Because… I've been wondering…" Narcissa sighed, closing her eyes as she inhaled deeply. "I- I miss you, Andy. Would you… could you consider coming for tea?"

Ted felt suddenly dizzy, his heart seeming to halve in weight in just a few seconds. He'd spent his entire marriage hoping that someone in Andromeda's family would change their mind, would reinstate contact with his beloved wife. He knew how much she missed them: how melancholy she'd been when she'd seen Narcissa's wedding photographs in the papers, how sometimes she went for long walks alone and wouldn't bear company, not even his. At first, the hope had been desperate, burning inside him like a fire, but over years and years of silence from Andromeda's parents and sisters it had faded to a tiny spark that glowed again only very occasionally. And now it had finally happened, and it had been so easy, just two sentences. Ted could feel a grin beginning to break out on his face, irresistible despite how inappropriate it was.

Andromeda still had not spoken, though, and when he realised this his grin faded slightly. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, 'Dromeda?"

"No," she said quietly, and Ted felt a lead weight settle in his stomach. "It isn't as simple as that. Narcissa, it's been twenty-six years. I wanted so much to see you at first… but now I don't know how I feel."

Narcissa nodded slowly, even though Andromeda's back was still turned. "I understand."

There was silence for a few seconds, then the crunch of gravel as Narcissa took a few steps backwards, towards her husband. "Well, goodbye then, Andromeda." Her voice cracked as she said it, and Ted saw tears in the corner of her eyes for the first time.

Andromeda let out a frustrated sigh, whirling round to face her sister. "I said I don't know how I feel, not no," she said suddenly. "Fine. We'll meet for tea. I think we need to, to talk things over if nothing else. But I am _not_ coming to the Manor. You can meet me in Diagon Alley. Alone, mind. I don't think I can cope with seeing Lucius' face more than once a year."

Lucius, to Ted's slight surprise, said nothing in response, instead taking his wife's hand.

"I understand," Narcissa said again, though her expression and tone were much more hopeful this time. "Owl me with a convenient date."

Ted felt his grin creeping back. "Oh, this is brilliant," he said, beaming at Narcissa. "You're amazing."

Narcissa raised her eyebrows in response, while Lucius took a half-step forward, looking irritated, but seemed to think better of whatever he had planned to say, and settled back beside his wife.

"Ted, darling, please shut up," Andromeda commanded. "All she's done is offer to meet her own sister for tea. It's not exactly the discovery of the Patronus, is it? The last thing Narcissa needs is someone to inflate her ego still further."

"You're really, really amazing too, if that helps," Ted said to Andromeda, continuing to grin broadly.

Andromeda sighed and shook her head, but her expression seemed a little more cheerful than it had been a few minutes ago. "Come on, let's go."


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note:** Sorry for how long it has been since my last update! I have a couple more chapters written now after this one, though, so hopefully it won't be quite as long until the next one!

* * *

A few days later, Dora was stirring her breakfast porridge around moodily. Her appetite had completely disappeared: even her favourite dinners, home-cooked by Ted, failed to tempt her. She'd noticed a suspicious increase in the number of times both her parents offered her food, as well: they'd clearly both noticed the weight she'd lost.

Her mother raised an eyebrow at her across the table, looking pointedly at Dora's still-full bowl. Dora quickly looked away, covering the moment by looking down at Teddy, who was resting in a small rocker on the floor, where he could easily see them. She said a few words of nonsense and forced herself to pull a silly face, at which he giggled. He'd begun to laugh around a week ago, a milestone that should have been joyful, but one that in the aftermath of Remus' funeral was only a reminder of what his father would miss. At least his laugh reminded her more of his grandfather than his father: Teddy seemed to have inherited the trademark Tonks grin.

Dora focused, screwing up her eyes in concentration, trying to morph her nose to something amusing, but nothing happened. She'd thought she'd had difficulty with her Metamorphosing after Remus had rejected her, but it was nothing compared to this. She couldn't make even tiny changes, unless they happened by accident, like her hair flashing red with anger.

"What you trying to do, Dora?" Ted asked gently.

"Duck beak," Dora muttered. "Dammit, I can't do a thing."

Andromeda gave a sniff of disapproval. "If you must swear, Nymphadora, at least do it away from my grandson."

"He can't speak yet, Mum!"

"Probably best to make sure his first word isn't 'dammit', though," Ted pointed out.

Dora rolled her eyes. "He won't speak for months. Will you, Teddy bear?" she added in a sweeter voice, forcing a ridiculous grin onto her face, despite the fact that smiling was the last thing she felt like doing.

"Don't call him that," Ted said mock-strictly. "I've got to defend the poor boy, as a fellow sufferer."

"Ignore your father. He's flattered you named the baby in his honour," Andromeda said, smirking wickedly. "Aren't you, Teddy darling?"

Ted scowled. "You're evil."

"You knew who my family was when you married me, what did you expect?"

"Your inheritance?" Ted said, a cheeky smile playing around his mouth. "Bit of a disappointment how that turned out. I thought your evil side might be just about worth putting up with for a few thousand Galleons, but then they went and disowned you for some reason."

Dora's mother smiled. "I've just about decided it was worth it," she said softly, leaning across to give her husband a brief kiss.

Dora pulled a face. Her parents had never been the sickly-sweet romantic types, despite their Romeo and Juliet-like background, so the sudden increase in physical displays of affection that had happened over the last few weeks was a little disconcerting, despite Dora being married with a child of her own. Well, widowed…

This last thought made Dora have to force back tears, so she looked around to distract herself, her eyes landing again on Teddy. As she looked at him, half his hair turned bright green, half bright red, which cheered her up somewhat.

"It's not Christmas for months, baby," she murmured to him, making her parents look round.

Ted laughed. "That's a good look for you, lad," he said.

Teddy grinned back at his grandad, and changed his hair to match Ted's blonde.

"Absolutely not, Teddy dear. I can't cope with two of you," Andromeda said.

Dora could see what her mother meant, for with the hair and the grin, Teddy looked like a younger double of her father. Dora watched her dad making utterly ridiculous faces at the baby for a few minutes: sticking his tongue out, raising his eyebrows up nearly to his hairline, dropping his jaw down and wiggling it, every so often reaching down to tickle Teddy's toes. Teddy, of course, was loving it, gurgling and smiling, occasionally trying out his new laugh, which seemed to be what Ted was going for.

"Try to eat something, Nymphadora," Andromeda said softly, looking at her daughter's still full bowl.

Dora sighed, looking down at the porridge. To please her mother more than anything else, she took a spoonful and forced it down, swallowing hard against the tightness in her throat. She managed a couple more mouthfuls before her father turned to her, finally tearing his gaze away from the wriggling baby.

"We're going in to sort out the shop today," Ted said quietly, his eyes scanning her face as though looking for her reaction. "You know, tidy up, restock, scrub all the graffiti off the walls. Your mum and I wondered if you and Teddy might be up for helping. Only if you want to, but we thought it might do you good to get out of the house."

Dora didn't have to think twice. "Sure. You know me, I love to help. Though I might end up just making more mess."

Andromeda smiled. "I've had plenty of years of practice cleaning up after you, Nymphadora."

"There's no rush, love," Ted said to his daughter. "Whenever you're done with breakfast and this little man is ready."

Teddy wriggled and made a few squeaking noises.

"Oh, you're ready now, are you?" Andromeda said in a sing-song voice to him. "You'll just have to wait for us old folks, then."

About half an hour later, Dora emerged from the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron. She lifted the Imperturbably-Charmed piece of cloth that was covering Teddy's mouth and nose to protect him from the soot, then brushed down her robes with her hand. It really was a messy way to travel, but she was irrationally terrified of Side-Along Apparition with Teddy, even though she could do it perfectly well, even with people far bigger than him. Part of Auror training had involved Side-Alongs with the other trainees, as preparation in case you needed to move someone incapacitated in battle. Dora had been very nervous the first time she'd done it, dreading that she might Splinch the other person, a dread that had returned tenfold with Teddy.

Dora's thoughts were broken as her father emerged from the Floo behind her, stumbling slightly on the rug as he stepped out of the fireplace. Her mother emerged a few seconds later, an elegant wave of her wand instantly vanishing any trace of dust from both her robes and her husband's, before it was directed at Dora's clothing.

"Mum! I'm twenty-five years old!"

"And still utterly unable to perform a simple Cleaning Charm," Andromeda said haughtily.

"That's not true!" Dora protested as they began to walk through the interior of the Leaky Cauldron, which was almost deserted at this hour. Two men sat at a table in a corner, looking morose, while Tom the barman was quietly polishing a glass, his expression dull and solemn.

"Dora, love, you're quite definitely the only member of the house of Black who cleans their house using a hoover," Ted said with a grin. "I think your mother might be right about this one. Morning, Tom!" he added, smiling at the barman. "How's things?"

Tom gave him a strange look in return, barely meeting his eyes before glancing away towards the floor. "Fine," he said quietly, his uncharacteristically nervous tone belying his words.

Ted frowned slightly, but didn't say anything about Tom's unusual tone. "We're heading through, if that's alright. I want to go and check on the shop."

Tom nodded, still not meeting Ted's eyes, and gestured for them to go through. In the narrow back yard of the pub, Andromeda tapped the bricks on the back wall, opening the arch that led through into Diagon Alley.

It was a sad sight. Most of the shops were boarded up, and many had broken windows. Glass littered the streets, and piles of blankets still lay in doorways from the wandless, homeless Muggle-borns who had populated the street during the war. The other people walking along were somber and quiet. A few minutes' walk down the street led them in sight of a burned-out shell of a building, which made Dora's father freeze in his tracks, looking up at the soot-blackened shop front, his expression helpless and despairing.

"Oh God. God. They'll have done that to mine, too."

Dora reached to put a hand on her father's arm. "You don't know that yet, Dad," she said softly.

"Indeed not, but I agree with your father. I imagine they have," Andromeda said softly. She reached for her husband's arm. "I'm sorry, Ted."

Her Dad didn't respond, which made Dora's insides twist with concern. He was continuing to stare at the charred ruins in front of him.

"What're we going to do, 'Dromeda?"

Dora's mother moved closer to him. "Let's at least go and see what they have done to it," she said gently. "We'll work it out from there. And financially we'll be fine, I promise. I can make sure of that."

Ted reluctantly pulled his eyes away from the building to look at her. "I know. I just… maybe it's selfish, but I'll miss having my shop. It took me so much work to get there, and to think I'll never have another one again…" he paused, and shook his head. "I'm sorry, I'm being silly."

"No you're not, Dad," Dora said instantly. "It took you years to pay off the loan for the shop. We both know how much you loved running it. But maybe they haven't burnt it down… or maybe we can repair it with magic…"

Dora tried to keep up a similar positive vein as they walked further down into Diagon Alley, turning left into a smaller, narrower street, Irigin Alley. Dora instantly looked for where her father's shop stood, about halfway down.

"No…" Ted murmured, clearly seeing it too.

The charred remains were obvious even from this far up the street, but Ted almost ran down the tiny, cobbled lane anyway, halting in front of what had once been his shop. It was unrecognizable: beams from the roof littered the ground, crumbling at her father's hand as he bent down to touch them despairingly.

Dora lifted her wand and pointed it at a piece of broken, charred wood at her feet. " _Reparo,"_ she muttered, without much hope. Sure enough, the wood stayed as blackened and splintered as before.

"It'll be Fiendfyre," her mother whispered from her position crouched next to her husband, her arms around him. "There's nothing we can do except clean up the mess."

Her father was reaching a hand out to brush at the ground in front of him, sweeping away the dust to reveal letters carved in the cobbled stone of the street. The words 'Mudblood filth' were gradually revealed beneath the ash, carved harshly into the stone.

Ted sighed heavily, letting his hand fall back to his side. Dora could see tears threatening at the corner of his eyes, and hurried over to wrap an arm around him.

"They're gits, Dad," Dora muttered.

"That's one word for it," Ted muttered. He lifted his hand to wipe roughly at his eyes. "I'm sorry, Dora. I shouldn't be like this. You've lost so much more."

"It's OK, Dad. It's… it's horrible, what they've done."

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, Dora and Andromeda wrapping their arms tightly around Ted, Andromeda resting her head comfortably on the curve of his shoulder. Eventually, Dora's father stirred a little, squeezing their hands.

"I… I suppose we should try and clear this up."

"Would you mind if we left it, darling?" Andromeda asked slowly. "There may well be compensation going out to Muggle-borns soon for costs they've suffered, and this is good evidence. It might even be enough for you to purchase new premises, if you want to."

Ted nodded. "Yeah. Yeah. Good point." He seemed to brighten a little. "Do you really think I might get the money for a new one?"

Andromeda smiled. "I'll make sure of it."

Ted nodded and pushed himself to his feet. "Some of this is kind of dangerous, though," he said, looking at the splinters of broken glass mixed into the ash.

"I'll put a protective charm over it so no-one can touch it, with their hands or with magic," Dora offered. "It's what we do at crime scenes, sometimes."

Ted nodded. "Thanks, love."

Dora lifted her wand, waving it in a figure-of-eight pattern across the scene in front of her. "Praesidio," she murmured, ending the wand movement in a diagonal flick. It took more concentration to cast the charm than it usually would: Dora often felt her magic was failing her these days. Thankfully, though, she felt the spell take hold.

A few minutes later, the three of them sat gloomily in a small coffee shop down another side street. Teddy was the only one of them who looked remotely cheerful, as he sat cradled on Dora's lap hungrily sucking at a bottle.

"Are you hungry, Nymphadora?" Andromeda asked, looking searchingly at her.

Dora sighed. Her mother offered her food about every ten minutes at the moment, or at least it seemed that way to her. "I'm fine." She took a sip of frothy coffee.

Her father still looked dull, his face empty without its characteristic grin or spark in his eye. Although he'd seemed a little more cheerful at the prospect of being able to get new premises, he still seemed to be mourning the loss of the shop he'd had. Dora couldn't blame him: he'd been there since before she'd even gone to Hogwarts. Dora bit her lip as she remembered her father patiently showing her how to brew a potion she'd struggled with in class: it had been Christmas time, and her lesson had taken place amid a riot of holly, pine branches and, unusually in a wizarding shop, tinsel. She could remember other occasions too- when she'd been studying for her Auror exams she'd worked with her father endlessly to master some of the trickier Potions, long complex ones that took weeks or even months to mature.

"I'm sorry, Dad," she said again.

Her father shrugged. "It can't be helped, I suppose," he said, his voice dull. "It's only a shop."

They sipped their coffee in silence for a few moments, before hearing the bell of the café tinkle as the door opened. Dora looked up slowly to see Hermione and Ginny stepping across the threshold.

"Wotcher," Dora managed, without any of the usual bubbliness in her tone.

The two girls looked towards them. "Oh, hi, Tonks." Ginny's voice was flat and expressionless too, perhaps even more so than it had been at Remus' funeral where she'd seen the girl last. Dora swallowed hard against the lump of tears that had formed in her throat at that thought.

"Hi," Hermione added, sounding slightly more cheerful. "Is that Teddy? How is he?"

"Fine," Dora said quietly, uncharacteristically struggling for words.

"Nice and quiet, for once," her father added, with what seemed like a great effort. "That probably won't last long, though." Despite his melancholy mood, he managed a cheerful grin at Hermione and Ginny. "I'm not sure we got chance to meet properly at the…" he trailed off, glancing nervously at Dora "… well, er, I'm Ted. Dora's dad."

"Hermione Granger," Hermione said. "I think we did see each other, but we didn't get much chance to talk."

"I'm Ginny, Ginny Weasley."

Ted nodded, smiling at her. "I think I remember you when you were little: I popped round to see some of your father's collection of plugs: he wanted me to explain how they worked. Sadly I failed dismally, I've absolutely no idea what electricity even is." He turned to look at his wife. "I don't know if either of you've met my wife, Andromeda?"

They both nodded.

"Yes, we've been introduced," Andromeda said. "How are you both?"

They both murmured variations on "Fine, Mrs Tonks."

"Allow me to say again how sorry I am about your brother, Miss Weasley. It is such a dreadful loss."

"Thanks," Ginny murmured, looking down at the ground. Hermione laid a hand on her arm.

There was silence for a few moments. Dora took another sip of her rapidly-cooling coffee. "Do you want to join us, girls?" she asked eventually, when Ginny looked a little more composed.

"Sure," Ginny said, turning a chair around

Hermione, however, glanced hesitantly at Andromeda. Dora tensed instantly, glancing across in time to see her mother's eyebrows raise.

"Is there a problem?" Andromeda asked, her voice haughty.

"No," Hermione said quickly. She hastily fetched a chair as well and sat down.

There was an awkward silence.

"So, are you both going back to Hogwarts in September?" Ted asked, his tone suddenly far more jovial than it had been all day.

"Yes," Hermione said. "I want to finish my education."

"I was only in sixth year anyway, so I have to go back," Ginny said. "It's only people who were in seventh year last year who have the option. Though I get the choice about going back and repeating sixth year or going straight into seventh. I think I'll do the extra year- I don't feel ready for it to be my NEWT year."

Hermione nodded. "I've heard it's really difficult," she said, an undercurrent of anxiety in her tone.

"Not for you, I imagine." Andromeda smiled at Hermione. "Nymphadora informs us you are a very intelligent girl and a quite exceptional witch."

Hermione blushed, looking across at Dora, who grinned.

"Some things never change." Ginny looked exasperatedly at Hermione. "You're such a perfectionist."

Hermione looked even more embarrassed, making Dora take pity on her. "Give it a few years and my Teddy'll give you a run for your money," she interrupted, looking proudly at her son. "One of his toys was twitching about suspiciously on the shelf at the other side of the room this morning. I think he'll soon be levitating them over." Dora tried to ignore the twist in her stomach at the thought of Remus missing this important milestone.

Dora's father smiled, seeming to shake himself out of his bad mood. "I used to do that. My eldest sister's never forgiven me: she got the blame, you see, she was four at the time so my Mum reckoned it had to be her."

"I'm an only child," Hermione murmured, looking down at the table. "I've no idea who my parents blamed it on."

"Have you been to Australia yet?" Dora asked gently, noticing the girl's downcast expression.

There was silence for a few moments. "I'm going this weekend."

"'Mione, it'll be _fine_ ," Ginny said with emphasis.

Dora's father frowned. "If I'm being nosy please feel free to shut me up, but what's this about Australia?"

Hermione looked up. "I sent my parents there. I… I modified their memories so they wouldn't remember me, I thought it might keep them safe."

Ted gave a low whistle. "Ouch. That must have been difficult."

Hermione nodded, frowning. "I just hope they won't be too angry with me… I felt like it was the only way…"

Ted nodded understandingly. "It's really tough. I don't know if I could do it, but you absolutely did the right thing."

Hermione watched him for a few moments. "I… I met some of your family at the…" she glanced at Dora.

Despite herself, Dora felt anger rise within her. "You can say the word 'funeral'," she said, trying to keep her voice calm.

"Yes, 'Dromeda did some Slytherin thing so they could come," Ted said quickly, covering the moment.

Her mum shook her head, smirking at her husband. "I merely… called in a few favours."

Hermione ignored their banter, looking intensively at Ted. "How did you protect them? If… if you don't mind me asking."

"'Course I don't," Dora's dad smiled reassuringly. "It was a Fidelius Charm. Well, several."

Frowning, Hermione shifted on her chair, leaning forwards. "I thought of that, but then I thought I'd be the only witch or wizard who knew, so if I died then the charm would break straight away… it wouldn't even dilute like the Order's one did."

"True. See, I wasn't the Secret Keeper, though, so it was a bit safer."

Ginny looked puzzled. "Then who was?"

Hermione seemed confused for a few seconds, too, but suddenly Dora saw a realization steal over her face, and she glanced at Andromeda for confirmation.

Andromeda smiled. "Yes. I was quite a bit safer than my husband in the war, unfortunately."

"Fortunately," Ted returned straight away. "I don't like to think of you getting hurt."

There was a silence after that, the sound of cups chinking against the table seeming unnaturally loud, until Teddy wriggled and let out a few squeaks. Dora adjusted his position on her lap so he could more clearly see Ginny, who was smiling at him. His hair turned bright red like hers in seconds as he smiled back.

"Think he likes you. Do you want to hold him?"

Ginny nodded, and Dora carefully stood, moving round the table to place Teddy in Ginny's lap. Ginny's arms were tense as Dora placed him into them.

"You can relax, you won't hurt him," Dora said reassuringly. "There, see," she added, as Teddy grinned up at Ginny's face, quite happy, his hair still tomato-red.

"He's gorgeous," Hermione murmured, leaning over Ginny's shoulder to get a better look. Teddy's red hair became as bushy as Hermione's brown, but without changing colour, making Ginny snort with laughter.

"Maybe that's what your future kids are going to look like." Ginny smirked at Hermione, who instantly went as red as Teddy's hair.

"Ginny!"

Trying to fake the cheerfulness she'd normally have, Dora said: "Hang on, I've missed this. Have you and Ron _finally_ admitted you like each other?"

Hermione went an even deeper shade of scarlet and glared at her friend. Despite the misery that was ever-present in Dora's mind at the moment, she smiled. "Fine. I won't ask."

"He's a lovely baby," Ginny commented, clearly deciding to steer the subject away from Ron given Hermione's murderous look. "Though I'm not sure we can say the traditional 'he's got your eyes'."

"He's got everyone's eyes, sometimes," Ted grinned. "As long as this one doesn't decide he wants to go to Muggle primary school. That was an absolute nightmare."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Dora said. "I was a very stubborn child," she added, looking at Hermione and Ginny."

"You went to primary school?" Hermione asked. "You could control your Metamorphosing that early?"

"Not till I was seven. And even then my hair still sometimes went red if I got mad."

"Luckily no-one believes small children when they come out with things like that," Andromeda said archly. "I did, however, have to Obliviate quite a few of Nymphadora's teachers after they'd told her off."

"She never wiped away their memories of what I'd done to get told off, though."

"Certainly not. You're the Hufflepuff, Nymphadora, how fair does that sound to you?"

"Yeah, okay," Dora said with a smile. "Hopefully Teddy's less of a troublemaker than me, let's hope he takes after-"

Abruptly, Dora stopped. Her mouth had run on before her mind could catch up, and even forming the word 'Remus' in her mind opened up such a depth of pain within her that she could barely stay upright.

"Oh, Nymphadora," her mother murmured.

Her father reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly. Hermione and Ginny both looked a little uncomfortable, but sympathetic.

"I'm really sorry," Hermione said hesitantly. "We… Harry, Ron and I… we feel responsible."

"Don't be silly," Dora said, wiping at her tears with her hand. "There would have been a fight at some point, and what you three did saved everyone else."

"There might not have been," Hermione responded, biting her lip. "Maybe… well, Muggleborns wouldn't have been okay, obviously, but maybe the Death Eaters would have left everyone else alone."

"Trust me, Miss Granger, Bella would not have rested until both Dora and Remus were dead. Battle or no battle. So you can stop blaming yourself."

"I doubt You-Know-Who's world order would have been particularly friendly to werewolves, either," Ted pointed out. "Certainly not werewolves who were also Order members. It isn't your fault, Hermione, or Harry's."

The rest of the time in the coffee shop passed in the discussion of more mundane subjects, although it took a long time for Dora to begin to feel even a little more cheerful, despite her father's many attempts to draw her into the conversation. Eventually, Hermione and Ginny took their leave, and the Tonks family walked back out into the beginnings of a cold drizzle, which matched all of their moods quite well. Her father was still trying to be cheery, but Dora could tell he was still down underneath all that, and she herself was still fighting back the feeling of devastation that always threatened to overwhelm her at the moment. Only her mother seemed composed, though her mother almost always seemed composed in public, no matter what was going on in her head.

When they emerged from their own fireplace again, the mood became even more somber. Dora had to stop and lean against the railing of Teddy's crib after she put him to bed, tears beginning to run freely down her cheeks now she was in private.

"I miss you, Remus," she murmured to the empty air.


	16. Chapter 16

Another piece of parchment was pressed into a ball and dropped into the bin, and Andromeda sighed, resting her head in her palms. Why was this letter proving so difficult to write? After all, she'd written to Narcissa after Dora had received those flowers, and she'd done it in one draft; none of this hesitation.

Reluctantly, Andromeda lifted her quill again, dipping it into the inkwell on the desk before pressing it to the parchment.

 _Dear Mrs Malfoy,_

 _In response to your letter, I can confirm I still wish to take tea with you: this Wednesday afternoon if it is convenient. Perhaps_ La Rose _in Diagon Alley might be suitable._

 _My family and I are as well as can be expected, thank you. I hope that you and your son are in good health._

 _Yours,_

 _Andromeda Tonks._

Andromeda paused, looking critically at the letter. Agonising over this was ridiculous: it was Narcissa in the wrong, not her, Narcissa should be grateful for any communication she received from her however it was phrased, and yet…

She heard the door to the study creak open behind her, and heavy footsteps paced over to her chair. Her husband's warm arms wrapped around her shoulders, and he kissed the top of her head. Andromeda smiled, tilting her head to look at him.

"It's pretty late, love," Ted said, looking down at her concernedly. "Aren't you coming to bed?"

"Soon. I'm just writing a letter. You go to sleep, Ted."

"Hmm," he murmured uncommittedly, playing with a lock of her hair as he looked deep into her eyes. "Who said anything about _sleep_?"

Smiling, she nudged him playfully on the shoulder with her free hand. "Don't start. I really have to finish this."

Ted sighed slightly, unwrapping his arms from her shoulders before raising his wand to summon the squashy armchair from the other corner of the room. He sank into the comfortable leather seat, leaving one hand on her shoulder. "Do you want to tell me what's so important?"

Part of Andromeda's mind wanted to keep this quiet, even from him, but his earnest expression made it impossible to say no. And the more logical part of her mind knew he only wanted to help, that he'd probably picked up on her frustration and anxiety and would only worry more if he didn't know what it was about. So she shifted the papers on the desk, picking up Narcissa's original letter and passing it across to him. "I'm trying to answer this," she said slowly.

She watched him carefully as he read it. There was a reason she'd shown Ted the letter itself rather than simply summarizing it. Towards the end, Narcissa had included the words: 'Please give my regards to your husband, if he will accept them', which had so surprised Andromeda that she had almost choked on the cup of tea she'd been drinking at the time.

Sure enough, Ted's eyebrows leapt up towards his hairline a few seconds later. He stared at the bottom of the letter for a few moments, presumably reading that sentence three or four times, before he looked up and stared at her, his face utterly baffled. "That never says what I think it says."

A slow smile crept over Andromeda's face at his expression. "It does. Although I wouldn't be too pleased about it: she has an ulterior motive, of course."

"Well, yeah, I know _that_ ," Ted said, beginning to grin. "But that ulterior motive is wanting to get back in touch with you, and if she's willing to ask after me then she must really want to see you." He was smiling broadly now. "This is brilliant!"

Andromeda shook her head, her smile fading. "Alternatively, her ulterior motive is trying to smooth over the past with the rest of society by exploiting us and our connections."

Her husband leaned forwards, looking at her sadly. "Oh, 'Dromeda," he murmured, reaching to take her hand.

She squeezed his hand back, glad of the comfort. For a few minutes there was no sound except for the slow tick of the grandfather clock that had been Ted's father's, and the restless shuffling of Nivian, their eagle owl, in her cage. She'd noticed that Andromeda was drafting a letter, and clearly couldn't understand why she hadn't yet been sent out with it.

"I just don't know what to do," Andromeda said eventually. "If she genuinely wants to get back in touch then… well, I still haven't forgiven her for everything she's done, but… I have missed her."

"I know." Ted traced slow patterns on the back of her hand with his thumb.

"If she's just trying to use us, though…" Andromeda's voice hardened, and she made a fist with the hand Ted wasn't holding.

"If it helps, I think it looked like she was genuine."

"You think everyone's genuine. You're too optimistic about people, Ted, you always have been. When you also consider that Narcissa's always had the talent of charming people, particularly men, to think whatever she wants them to think, I have to say I'm still not entirely convinced."

Ted's hand twitched within hers. "I'm only trying to help, love."

Glancing up at him, Andromeda felt a twist of guilt at his expression. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry. Have you tried to reply to her?"

She nodded, wordlessly passing him the latest draft of her letter. It didn't take him long to read it, his eyes rapidly skimming the short lines. Then he laughed.

"I don't really think this is funny," Andromeda snapped, slightly hurt.

Ted stopped laughing quickly, though his face still wore an amused smile. "Sorry, love, sorry, it's just… you really don't like Lucius, do you?"

"Well spotted," Andromeda muttered, her lip curling at the mere thought of the arrogant, elitist, snobbish little-

"'Dromeda, I really don't think you can ask after her and her son and deliberately not mention her husband, especially not when she asked after me."

"You're not Lucius," Andromeda argued.

Ted grinned lopsidedly back at her. "Well spotted," he joked, throwing her own words back at her.

Despite herself, Andromeda smiled. "I know, I know, you're right, it's just… Lucius Malfoy is a horrible man."

"Is he?" Ted's voice bounced with mock surprise. "He seems such a lovely guy. You know, kind… down-to-earth… humble…"

Andromeda couldn't help laughing, an effect her husband often had on her. It was one of the reasons she'd fallen in love with him, this easy ability to melt away bitterness and anger with laughter and gentleness. "Where would I be without you?"

He grinned, raising his eyebrows at her in a way that told her another joke was on its way. "Married to Malfoy with a diamond necklace like your sister's?"

Andromeda wrinkled her nose. " _Malfoy?_ Absolutely not. Besides, I don't think anyone or anything could have tempted him away from Narcissa."

Ted's expression became more serious. "No?"

"They were always nauseatingly in love with each other. I can't see what she sees in him."

Ted smiled softly at her. "No, neither can I. But I doubt she sees what you see in me, either. Andromeda, you have to ask how he is."

"I know. If I even want to reply to her."

Ted looked at her, saying nothing. Andromeda stared determinedly back, but knew internally she wouldn't last. He was the kind of person it was hard not to open up to, even if you weren't his wife.

"Fine," she said after a few minutes. "I _do_ want to see her, more than I'd realized in all those years the option wasn't there, but… I feel ashamed to go crawling back after… after everything. And I don't feel I can trust her."

He nodded. "Maybe she feels ashamed too, or guilty, for hurting you. It's possible, you know."

"Highly unlikely," Andromeda sniffed, "but I'll take the chance anyway." She reached for yet another fresh piece of parchment, and yet again picked up the quill. Before beginning to write, though, she turned back to Ted.

"Have I told you that I love you?" she murmured.

"Once or twice, yeah." He smiled at her. "Love you too."

For a few minutes there was silence, broken only by the scratching of Andromeda's quill against the parchment. When she'd finished, she passed the letter over to Ted. "Better?"

"Perfect, love," he replied, passing it back.

Andromeda stood, walking across to Nivian's cage and undoing the latch. Nivian flew out instantly, fluffing up her light brown feathers and staring at Andromeda with eyes as orange as flame, as though asking what had taken her so long. When Andromeda reached towards her, though, she held her leg out obediently.

Andromeda could sense her husband's eyes on her as she tied the letter to Nivian and carried the owl to the window, releasing her out into the darkness. Closing the window, she turned towards him, letting her eyes fall on the grandfather clock before they drifted to his. "You were right, it is late."

"Yeah, we should get some sleep," he responded, pushing himself up out of the armchair and beginning to move towards the door.

"Really?" As he turned back towards her, she raised a single eyebrow. "I thought you had a better idea than that."

A slow smile spread across his face as he let his eyes wander over her. She felt her heartbeat speed up, and for a moment she wondered at how much more quickly her body responded since the war. It wasn't quite as though they'd gone back to being newly-weds, but it was definitely different.

"So I did," he murmured, crossing the room to her in two strides and wrapping his arms about her waist, pulling her close. "So I did."

She let her eyes fall shut as she leaned in to kiss him, letting his touch soothe away her anxiety and her anger, trying to let go of her worry about Dora, her grief for Remus and Bella, her ambivalent feelings about Narcissa, and focus only on the moment. It was difficult, and she was sure Ted could feel the last few pieces of tension that she couldn't quite let drain away, a suspicion that was confirmed when he paused in kissing her jawline to whisper in her ear.

"It'll be okay, 'Dromeda."


	17. Chapter 17

Andromeda walked down Diagon Alley with considerable trepidation, her purple robes swishing about her ankles. She'd dressed particularly carefully that morning, in traditional long witch's robes and a silver cloak, pinning her hair up instead of leaving it loose or tying it back in a quick ponytail as she usually did these days. Her heels, higher than she generally wore, made a staccato click against the cobbles of the street as she strode down it. It was a warm day, the sun glinting off the shop windows, and Andromeda was glad of the Cooling Charm she'd cast on herself.

Soon she reached _La Rose_ , a café at the fancier end of Diagon Alley, surrounded by robe-makers, jewelers, stationers selling the kind of fussy writing paper her mother had favoured… all the trades necessary to sustain the high-class pureblood lifestyle. Well, the more respectable and presentable part of that lifestyle, anyway… the rest was down Knockturn Alley, which had a rather different atmosphere. Andromeda couldn't imagine Narcissa being caught dead down _there,_ though she was certain Lucius would have visited on multiple occasions.

Taking a deep breath, Andromeda pushed open the door with its lacy curtain, stepping through into a room full of small tables covered in silky cloths, surrounded by chattering groups of finely-dressed women, punctuated by the occasional man. Tall stands adorned with fussy sandwiches and cakes sat on many of the tables, surrounded by snow-like swirls of sugar that twisted around and around in elegant spirals, kept moving by magic. Tea poured itself into delicate china cups, which were then lifted elegantly by manicured hands, or sometimes, in the case of the older and more traditionalist women, gloved ones.

Andromeda shuddered slightly. She hadn't been in here in years, and it seemed to have only become more exclusive, more _pureblood_ , in the interim. Why in Merlin's name had she suggested going here? Why hadn't they met at one of the more ordinary cafes, of which there were many along Diagon Alley?

A few of the nearby women had spotted her now, and she saw them staring, beginning to whisper to each other. Violet Parkinson gave a particularly unpleasant smile, and Andromeda hastily looked around for Narcissa. If Violet said a word she'd hex her, and Andromeda knew that would not be a good start.

Narcissa was sat at a table in the corner, though surprisingly not alone as Andromeda had expected. Allena Greengrass was standing beside her, clearly exchanging a few pleasantries. Allena had been one of a very small number of pureblood women who'd continued to acknowledge Andromeda after her marriage. They hadn't been close in any way, but they'd greet each other when they met. Allena had even sent a card when Nymphadora had been born, which would have been risky for her if anyone had found out. Hesitantly, Andromeda began to approach them; she could hardly hide now, not with Violet's eyes following her every move, but she wasn't entirely certain how either of the two women would react.

Narcissa spotted her first, looking past Allena to make eye contact and smiling nervously. Allena turned in time to face Andromeda as she got close to the table, her eyebrows raising in momentary surprise before she schooled her face into a more neutral expression.

"Mrs Tonks, how lovely to see you," Allena said, giving a brief curtsey which Andromeda had no hesitation in returning.

"Mrs Greengrass, likewise," Andromeda said. She was tempted to ask after the health of Allena's family, but then there would be some pressure for Allena to do the same and that wouldn't go down well here.

"I apologise, Narcissa, I didn't realise you were expecting someone," Mrs Greengrass added, turning towards Narcissa.

"No apology is necessary," Narcissa replied. Her voice was smooth and calm, but Andromeda noticed the tension behind it. Despite their years of separation, she could still read things in her sister that others could not.

Looking at Allena, Andromeda could also see a shadow of curiosity on the other woman's face, quickly contained. "Of course. We must take tea together another time, Narcissa, it has been far too long."

"Indeed," Narcissa responded calmly, but without the undercurrent of anxiety in her tone that had been present before. "I'll send you an owl. The Manor currently isn't in much state to receive guests, I'm afraid, though we hope to rectify that soon."

"Then you must come to us." Allena inclined her head to Narcissa, then turned towards Andromeda. "My condolences on your loss, Mrs Tonks," she said softly.

Andromeda raised her eyebrows. _That_ was bold, even for Allena, here where she could be overheard. "Thank you. Your family is well, I take it? How old are the girls now?"

"Daphne is nearly eighteen. Astoria sixteen. They're both well, thank you." Allena dropped into a curtsey, a traditional way of bidding farewell. "I must be going. Good day to you, Mrs Tonks."

"Good day," Andromeda responded, sliding into the seat opposite Narcissa as Allena walked away, the group of women containing Violet whispering to each other as she passed. Despite this, Allena smiled at them and exchanged a greeting with a calm authority Andromeda envied.

Once Allena had left she turned to face her sister. Narcissa looked much better than she had at her trial and even Bellatrix's funeral: the colour was beginning to return to her cheeks, and she was dressed in her usual immaculate way. Her sister's eyes were cast down, however, watching her fingers as they played with the lace on the tablecloth.

"That was fortunate," Andromeda began. "Mrs Greengrass reacted very well."

Narcissa nodded. "I do hope so. Draco's become good friends with her youngest daughter, I wouldn't want to disrupt that in any way." She raised her eyes slowly to meet Andromeda's. "I was surprised you wanted to meet here."

"I wanted to be sure you were serious," Andromeda admitted. While Narcissa could still, technically, have decided that it was worth exposing herself to the ridicule of pureblood society to court Andromeda's Order connections, at least this way there was a substantial social cost which would make it harder for Narcissa to play both groups off against each other.

"I see. The humiliation is my punishment, is it?"

Her hand curling into a fist, Andromeda snapped: "If I'm just a _humiliation,_ Narcissa, then I may as well leave now."

"That is not what I meant."

There was a long silence, the two women watching each other warily until Narcissa eventually dropped her gaze again. Andromeda sighed to herself: perhaps she should try to avoid picking fights, although Narcissa was hardly helping with that.

"How is your son?" she said eventually.

Narcissa hesitated. "If I'm honest, he hasn't been well."

"I'm sorry to hear that." The answer was an honest one: while Andromeda despised Lucius, she could see that Draco had mainly been led by his parents, that he wasn't as evil as his Death Eater status might suggest.

"How is your daughter?" Narcissa returned after a few moments, looking back at her.

"Still grieving."

"Yes… yes, of course."

Narcissa looked uncomfortable, but was saved from having to say more by the waiter arriving to take Andromeda's order. She decided on a pot of tea, which was almost as expensive as lunch might have been in another café, and the waiter withdrew.

"And your husband?"

"He's fine… well, not entirely. They burnt his shop to the ground. But he's _Ted_ , he… he's good at not letting things bother him for too long. Sometimes not even as much as they should."

"Yes, I noticed that."

They lapsed into silence again, Andromeda stirring her tea before taking a small sip.

"Does your husband have any family still living?" Narcissa asked eventually.

Andromeda put the teacup down more sharply than she should have, some of the liquid sloshing over the edge into the saucer. "You expect me to tell _you_? Perhaps it would be simpler if I wrote you a list, so you can tick them off one by one when you murder them?"

Her sister gasped slightly, her eyes widening in shock. "Calm down, Andromeda, I don't want to hurt anybody. Least of all your... I just wondered if they survived the war."

Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, Andromeda nodded. Ted had always been petrified that his marriage- even his mere existence in the wizarding world, actually- would make his family a target, and some of that fear had rubbed off on Andromeda over the years. She'd spent much of the last year in terror for her in-laws, when she could spare the worry from Ted and Dora. They couldn't stay in Fidelius-charmed homes all the time, of course, they had jobs to go to and shopping to get, and she'd been terribly afraid for them. "They did. We took measures to protect them."

"I'm sorry if the question offended you, sister," Narcissa said quietly.

"Do you really think _that's_ what you need to apologise for?"

Yet another long silence ensued, the two women watching each other, neither willing to be the first to look away.

Eventually, Narcissa dropped her gaze, her voice and demeanour becoming suddenly more childlike. "Andy, you don't understand…"

"Don't try that with me," Andromeda snapped. "I understand perfectly well."

There was a stony silence, interrupted only by the chattering of the women around them and the clink of Andromeda's teacup as she placed it back down.

"I'm sorry for any wrong you feel I've done you, Andromeda," Narcissa murmured eventually.

Andromeda gave a humourless laugh. "Only you could apologise without admitting you were wrong. And what about the things you've done that have hurt my husband? My daughter?"

"What are those, exactly?"

The insolence of the woman was unbelievable! "Your Death Eater friends murdered my daughter's husband and forced my Ted to go on the run. They nearly killed him. What do you mean, _what are those?_ "

"I didn't ask them to do any of that."

Narcissa was twisting the ring on her finger around and around, the movements speeding up as their argument continued. In anyone else that might be a reliable sign of anxiety, but Andromeda knew that her sister was easily capable of containing herself far more than that, that it was a choice to let the worry show. Likely an attempt at manipulating her, which only incensed her further.

"You didn't ask them not to."

"I might be dead if I had," Narcissa returned. "Myself and my son… Lucius, too, not that you would care about that."

"And your life is worth more than Remus' and Ted's, and those of everyone else the Death Eaters murdered, is it?"

"To me it is." Irritation crept into Narcissa's voice for the first time. "Though not as important as my son's. To me, Draco's life is more important than anything in the world. Surely you understand that?"

Andromeda hesitated, taking a sip of her tea to cover her uncertainty. Could she really say she wouldn't have done anything she could to protect her family's lives, even if that meant ignoring truly evil deeds done against others? She certainly wouldn't have risked Dora's life to try and save Lucius', and Narcissa had at least done something to try and protect Ted, even if it was so tiny it hardly counted.

"I do," Andromeda admitted eventually. "Fine, I understand your position in the most recent war was very difficult. What about the twenty-five years before that, Narcissa?"

Her sister shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Do you mean the first war?"

"Not just that. You ignored me for twenty-seven years, Narcissa, you looked past me like I wasn't there. You said some horrible things about my husband in that letter you sent just after I ran away…"

"I do not believe I did."

Andromeda stared at her sister in disbelief. "You said my husband was incapable of love and only after one thing. You promised me he'd run out on me and leave me alone with a child to raise. How is that not horrible?"

"I genuinely believed it at the time. I was wrong, of course, but I thought…" Narcissa broke off. "I wanted you to come home before it was too late. I couldn't bear thinking of him using you and then leaving you on your own…"

"You might have noticed he hasn't in fact done any of that," Andromeda spat icily.

"I did just say I was wrong."

Andromeda blinked. Yes, her sister _had_ said that, and that was not a sentence you often heard coming from Narcissa Malfoy. She hesitated, uncertain what to say next.

"I'm glad that I was wrong," her sister continued, probably, Andromeda thought, breaking some kind of world record for the number of times a Malfoy had admitted a mistake. "I'm glad you had a loving family, sister, even though I wish it could have been someone the family would accept."

 _That_ broke Andromeda's silence. "The _family?_ As though you weren't part of it too? You ignored my letters for years, Narcissa, you ignored me when we saw each other in the street…"

"I hardly had much choice in the matter, Andromeda. Can you not imagine what would have happened to my own marriage had I-"

"You admit selfishness was your motivation, then."

Narcissa stared at her for a few moments, her eyes slightly widened. Was her sister shocked at her comment, Andromeda wondered? How could she be?

"Did you consider _us_ when you ran away, Andromeda? I'm sure you wouldn't call your actions to secure your own happiness selfish, so why do you think it so wrong that I did the same?"

It was Andromeda's turn to stare. "You can't compare it, Narcissa. How can you even think…"

"Can't I? My mother-in-law disapproved of me quite enough- if she had caught me talking to you I'm quite sure she would never have permitted Lucius and I to marry."

"Do you think I believe that the woman who directly lied to He Who Must Not Be Named would have been unable to avoid Lissera Malfoy's detection?" Andromeda paused for a moment, but her sister did not reply. "You could have kept in contact with me secretly, Narcissa, had you wanted to. It's well within your capabilities."

Her sister looked down at the tablecloth, a gesture that conceded the point. Andromeda took a sip of tea, arming herself against the next attempt to wriggle out of blame that she was sure was coming. Therefore, she was not expecting what came next.

"I'm sorry, Andromeda."

The hot tea stung Andromeda's throat as she swallowed it far too suddenly. Staring back at Narcissa's glacier-blue eyes, she managed to choke out a: "I beg your pardon?"

"I am sorry, sister," Narcissa repeated. "You're right, I… I could have done more for you. Please… we're all that's left, Andy…"

That last comment stung, and Andromeda wanted to challenge it, to ask if that was all Narcissa thought she was good for, to be the fallback when there was no-one else left, but she bit back her retort. "I don't know if I can forgive you, Narcissa."

Her sister dropped her eyes, absently tapping the ring finger of her left hand against her cup. Andromeda watched as the light flashed across the ornate diamond and emerald engagement ring adorning her sister's hand. She felt a strange twisting sensation in her stomach as she realised this was the first time she'd been close enough to her sister to see the ring, even though Narcissa had been married for over twenty years. A memory flashed into her mind, her youngest sister aged nine sitting on Andromeda's four-poster bed in Black Manor, worriedly tapping a finger against the green satin bedspread just like that. It was August 31st, and Andromeda was repacking her trunk for the fifth time, nervous about her first year at Hogwarts.

" _We'll still play together when you come home, won't we?" Cissy asked anxiously._

" _Of course we will. And I'll write to you all the time, I promise."_

" _Good. I want to hear everything." Her sister was straining to sound relaxed, but Andromeda could see the telltale signs of worry in her sister's posture, her nervously-tapping hand._

" _Don't worry, Cissy." Andromeda paused in packing her trunk, scooting round the bed to pull her baby sister into a hug. "We'll always be best friends."_

" _Even when you grow up and get married?"_

" _Yes, even then. We'll be each other's bridesmaids… even if you insist on forcing me into pastel pink. I promise."_

 _Cissy smiled, looking up at her with a more relaxed expression._

"Andromeda, are you well?"

A deeper, more mature version of the voice in her memory cut through Andromeda's daydream, and she blinked, realising her sister was looking at her with some concern.

"I was… remembering," Andromeda murmured, taking a sip of tea to cover the moment.

Her sister frowned and opened her mouth, but seemed to think better of whatever she had been about to say, and closed it again.

"I… I don't know if I can forgive you, Narcissa," Andromeda resumed, speaking slowly and carefully, analyzing every word before letting it fall from her lips. "But… I am willing to try."

Narcissa made a slight sound of surprise, staring at her. "You're sure?"

Andromeda nodded, watching as a smile began to creep onto Narcissa's face. The emotion seemed genuine, unfeigned, and that let Andromeda relax slightly. She reached across the table to take her sister's hand, the first time they'd touched for twenty-seven years.

"Of course I'm sure, Cissy. Do you have any idea how much I've missed you?"

Her sister's eyes were damp as she returned the pressure on Andromeda's hand and nodded. "I think I do, yes. I've missed you too."


End file.
